The Guitarist and The Monk
by HRT
Summary: Hiro and Tatsuha find that love is never easy. Angst and humor. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

The Guitarist and The Monk by HRT

Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami, not this author (which is just as well, since I'm too lazy to write at her pace). This fanfic is not intended as an infringement on her copyright, but merely to amuse other Gravi fans and myself.

Warnings: Swearing, male x male romance and sexual relations, and one scene of non-consensual sex in Chapter 7. Plenty of alcohol and not much common sense about it, and one dose of Valium.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Hiroshi Nakano swung onto his motorcycle in front of Eiri Yuki's apartment building. The guitarist had just finished dropping off the final mix of one of their songs for Shuichi, when he heard another cycle pull into the space next to him. Hiro paused and gave the new bike and rider an appraising look.

The stranger looked up, and his eyes widened.

Hiro grinned. He was used to that reaction. He knew what the stranger was looking at. A young man in a black leather jacket and jeans, and long, loose black hair almost to his waist. And of course, one mean-looking bike.

This stranger though, he--

"Whoa," said the newcomer. "Can I look at your cycle? You've got some impressive metal there."

He came over, and Hiro politely climbed off to let the other get a better look. The guy was tall and lean, around Hiro's own height. Hair cut like Eiri Yuki's, dark bangs across his face where they'd get in the way. Wicked-looking black eyes peering through the screen of hair. And his face, God. Even Yuki didn't look that good. The writer in the apartment upstairs was the beautiful ice king, but this guy had all that, plus heat and smoke as well. But why did he seem so familiar?

"You've just bought this?" the stranger said. "Shuichi said you'd gotten another cycle, Hiro."

"You know who I am?" Something clicked in the guitarist's head. Looks like Eiri Yuki. Rides a motorcycle, black hair.

The front door of the apartment complex opened and out stepped a middle-aged man, one of Eiri's neighbors. "I thought that was you driving up. Your engine has a distinctive sound, Tatsuha-kun. Visiting Yuki-san again?"

Tatsuha winced in embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. It's a second-hand bike, and the engine's due to conk out one day. I know it's sort of loud. It's a serviceable little beast, but it sure doesn't match Hiro's." Tatsuha smiled a little, looking through his hair at the guitarist. He added aside, "Good evening to you, Yamato-san," as the neighbor shut his car door.

Something about the way Tatsuha looked at him made Hiro self-conscious. The guitarist supposed it was just the Uesugi family stare. "I'm sorry, I should have recognized you," said Hiro. "You resemble your brother."

Tatsuha only grimaced in reply, not liking the comparison.

"And you're a novice monk, aren't you?" Tatsuha sure didn't look like one. Then Hiro remembered that Tatsuha was bi. Uh-oh. The guitarist also recalled Shuichi's story about the famous pass. All it had taken was one Nittle Grasper video and wham, Tatsuha'd been all over Shuichi. It was a shame Shuichi looked so much like Ryuichi Sakuma, but that had been Shu's own fault for copying his singing idol so slavishly. Hiro had heard about Tatsuha's maniacal crush on Ryuichi Sakuma.

Then Hiro remembered something else. Tatsuha was a friend of Ayaka Usami. The guitarist's face colored. Well, well. Though lecherous and bi, there was indeed something to be gained from Tatsuha's company. Knowledge of Ayaka. Though Hiro had only met Ayaka a few times, he was pretty sure she was the girl he wanted to marry.

"You like my cycle? Want a ride?"

"Well, I ought to go see my brother. But he can wait a little. Sure." The monk had been planning to hang onto the bar behind the seat but encountered a problem. Hiro's hair. It streamed right into Tatsuha's face when they started off. Tatsuha leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hiro's waist instead. "Your hair's getting in my face. Sorry."

"S'okay. Want a short tour of the neighborhood?"

"Sure."

Hiro let the engine roar impressively. He was uneasy about Tatsuha's grip, but supposed the hair problem was a legitimate explanation. Or was it? They flew around several blocks, annoying both pedestrians and cars. Hiro grinned, and glanced quickly over his shoulder. "Care to stop for a drink?" the guitarist asked.

Tatsuha nodded and they parked in front of a restaurant. "Just a second." A rope of Hiro's long hair had snaked around Tatsuha's neck and the wind had tucked it under the collar of the monk's leather jacket. Tatsuha had to tug it out, gently, to release himself. "You never tie it up?"

Hiro blushed. "Occasionally." As they entered and found seats, he asked, "Did your brother invite you to visit?" He knew Eiri Yuki was very particular about his privacy.

"Not really. I'm sort of banished from home, temporarily. I was babysitting Yasha, Ryuichi Sakuma's pet alligator. You know, the one he brought back from the Amazon. I hadn't told my father about it, 'cause fathers tend to object to that sort of thing. Anyway, I was lying on my futon listening to music when my father came in to yell at me about something, and little Yasha champed down on his big toe. Now, I thought it served Dad right for going everywhere barefoot, (my father's a Buddhist priest, if no one's told you) but he was really pissed. I mean, his toe's still intact and everything, but I'd also been letting little Yasha soak in our koi pond, and he'd eaten all the carp. Well, Dad was going to ground me, but then he realized it wasn't my presence he wanted, but my absence, so he's banished me to Eiri's for a while. I have to tell my brother, though. He doesn't even know I'm coming to stay with him. Little Yasha has gone back to Ryuichi."

"You know Sakuma?" the guitarist asked as a waitress handed them menus.

"Yeah."

"And?" The question was obnoxious, Hiro knew, but he was curious about the monk's relationship to the famous singer.

"We're just friends," Tatsuha repeated, looking uncomfortable.

That meant he hadn't gotten anywhere with Sakuma, Hiro guessed. As they studied the menus, Hiro pondered how lovesick you had to be to agree to babysit someone's pet alligator for them.

Tatsuha peeked over his menu. "I suppose Shu has told you stuff about me, huh?"

"Yes. Including a certain pass."

The other dropped his menu, and put his fists against his forehead for a moment. "Oh, GOD. It wasn't him, you know. It was because he looked so much like Ryuichi."

Hiro smiled a little. "Do you still feel the same way about Shu now?"

"No," Tatsuha admitted. "He has an emotional crisis every five minutes or so. I like Shuichi, but I'm glad I'm not attracted to him anymore. It's less harrowing."

"I know what you mean," Hiro replied. There was a time, too, when Hiroshi had felt an adolescent attraction for his closest friend. The guitarist was primarily heterosexual, though he had occasional impulses in the other direction that he was always careful to suppress. Nor did he let these impulses upset him. He was too happy a person to waste time fretting about his own psyche. But as far as Shuichi went, experience had taught the guitarist the same lesson as Tatsuha. It was much smarter to be Shu's friend instead of his lover.

"To be fair, he does live an unusually stressful life, nationally-known singer and all," Tatsuha commented. "You seem like a pretty cool guy," said the monk suddenly.

"How so?"

Tatsuha gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, you've got a great bike for one thing. But you also play guitar in a successful band. You're good-looking as well, and though you have all the hassles Shu does, you deal with things better, from what Shu says."

Hiro reddened, unsure that he liked this turn of the conversation. "I was wondering if you could tell me any news about Ayaka," he said casually.

Tatsuha only gave him a bright-eyed look. "You're in love with her," the monk commented.

_Crap_, thought Hiro. "What makes you say that?"

Tatsuha didn't reply, but he privately thought Ayaka was the sort of girl a guy would only ask about if he was in love with her. She was a little bland, in his opinion. But she was a good person.

"I can smell infatuation across a room. It's because I'm a monk."

_It's because you're a lech_, Hiro thought silently. "So what's she been doing lately?"

The waitress had just delivered their drinks, and Tatsuha was stirring sugar into his coffee. "Mooning over a certain long-haired guitarist."

"What?!"

Tatsuha looked up, his expression sly. "She talks about you. She's very cautious about what she says, but I know she really likes you."

Hiro reddened.

"Yeah," said Tatsuha with too-knowing eyes. "Just like that. She blushes when anybody mentions your name."

"You're making a joke, right?" The guitarist was careful to keep his expression neutral.

"I don't joke about stuff like that. As a monk, I have a duty to be truthful to other people."

With a facetious air, Hiro asked, "So, what do you think my chances are?"

Tatsuha's face lost its smug expression. "With her, very good, if you can arrange to meet up a few more times. But with her parents, I can't give you an opinion. Her father's a Buddhist priest, remember." He looked away uncomfortably.

Hiro's face froze. "You don't think they would approve of me," said the guitarist slowly.

"I don't know! They've never met you, so I couldn't judge. I know they--would like a priest to marry their daughter," Tatsuha admitted weakly.

Hiro fell silent, thinking. Then he looked across the table. Why, he suddenly wondered, wasn't Ayaka engaged to someone like Tatsuha? The monk had the looks, the religious background, even the family. The Usamis had originally tried to pair Ayaka off with Eiri. "So why not you?" Hiro prompted.

"Me? We're not attracted to each other. I think of her more as a cousin or a sister or something. I've known her all my life."

"Would you happen to know if she has any boyfriends?" Hiro asked with determined casualness.

Tatsuha only smiled evilly. "No, she doesn't. She was interested in my brother, but we both know why she's not marrying him."

"I wish I knew more about that side of her life," said the guitarist, wistfully.

The monk decided he was not going to tell Hiro that he'd already seen Ayaka completely naked several times. They'd just been kids, taking their clothes off in Tatsuha's bedroom and trying to find out what went where. Ayaka had been pretty imperious at that age, and when she ordered him to strip so she could tutor herself, Tatsuha had obliged. She had given him his first feels of a girl's anatomy, and they had practiced kissing together. Both thought it awfully yucky, and it had taken Tatsuha a couple of years to realize that he had nothing against kisses and girls per se, it was just Ayaka. They had stayed friends, though.

"Tell you what, Hiro. When I get back to Kyoto, I'll talk you up to her."

Hiro winced. "I'd sort of prefer to speak to her myself."

"What? You don't think I'd be a good salesman? How about I carry a letter from you, just a friendly how are you doing, here's a pair of tickets to our concert sort of thing?"

Hiro stared. "You're devious. But why a pair of tickets? I'd just want to see her alone."

"So I could go along. How do you think she's getting to Tokyo? You think sweet daddy Usami would let her go see this evil-ass band in Tokyo by herself? Anyway, I'd think she'd ESPECIALLY like to see any concerts you do with Nittle Grasper."

"Uh-huh," Hiro drawled. "Nittle Grasper, you say? I think I've heard of them. Fronted by that singer, Ryuichi-something?"

The monk twitched, involuntarily. "Yeah. And I'd suggest something else. How about an acoustic show?"

"Acoustic?"

"Sure. Just you and Shuichi. In a small club somewhere, with no announcements that you're going to play, just a few people in the audience."

"Why?"

Tatsuha leaned forward. "Because Ayaka's a nice girl, and shy. She may like seeing you in some big arena, but you know what? I think she'd like it even better if she could see you where her ears aren't being blasted by 10,000 screaming fans and giant amplifiers, where she isn't being shoved to pieces, and where she's only a couple of feet away from you. She'll be able to see you smile right at her. A place where this glamorous guy with the guitar can step right off the stage afterwards to talk to her. Wouldn't it be nice if she found out later, from a certain Tatsuha Uesugi, that Hiroshi Nakano planned this special little performance just for her?"

Hiro blinked. "Tatsuha, why aren't you married if you have clever ideas like that?"

"Hey, I'm only seventeen. It's too early."

"I'd have to talk to both Shuichi and K to arrange it," the guitarist replied, already plotting the details. "And I'd better return you to your brother's."

"Yeah, you're right," Tatsuha sighed. "I need to convince him that it'd be smarter to have me at his place instead of Mika's. If you want to drop that letter off, I'll be in town at least until Saturday."

It was strange, Hiro reflected as they climbed on his cycle, feeling Tatsuha's arms go around him again. The guitarist had only known the monk about an hour, yet he already felt like a close friend.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 2


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AN: This chapter has been rewritten so that it differs somewhat from the original version.

* * *

Early the next morning, Hiro arrived again at Eiri Yuki's apartment. Shuichi wanted to discuss the mix with him before they arrived for work at NG, and Hiro was going out for breakfast with his singer for the discussion.

The guitarist knocked softly on the apartment door, hoping to avoid waking the writer. As one of nature's nice guys, Hiro had little patience for bad-tempered jerks like Eiri Yuki.

A moment later Shuichi waved him inside, but with a silent shushing noise. Tatsuha was asleep on the sofa in the corner. Then Hiro noticed something else, and tiptoed over to the sofa for a better look. Tatsuha was lying on his side under a blanket, his hand around a stuffed blue rabbit, nuzzling it as he slept. One of its limp ears was draped across his cheek. Hiro pointed downwards at the rabbit and gave his singer a questioning look.

Shuichi giggled silently into his hands. Then he waved Hiro into the kitchen and whispered, "Ryuichi Sakuma gave it to him. Where'd you want to go eat?"

A muttered early morning curse came from the living room. Shuichi opened the kitchen door, and Hiro saw Eiri standing there barefooted. The writer was mostly dressed, but had not yet tucked his shirt in or combed his hair. Irritably, the writer donned his glasses. Then he too, noticed his brother's rabbit.

"FUCK!" the writer yelled, waking his brother. "What the hell is that? I don't believe you, Tatsuha. Is that revolting thing from Sakuma? You really are in love, you pathetic ass. That's pretty bad when the guy won't even sleep with you."

The next second a blue rabbit was flying across the room, and it hit Eiri so hard it knocked the writer's glasses right off his face. Eiri bellowed and launched himself at his brother. The fight was going full-scale before Shuichi and Hiro could pull the combatants apart. Shuichi managed to drag Eiri back without too much trouble, as the writer was not really in the mood for an early-morning scrap, but Tatsuha was too angry to quit. Hiro had to pin the snarling teenager down for a good minute before he stopped thrashing. "Calm down, man," the guitarist urged.

Probably because it was Hiro, a newcomer, Tatsuha stopped. "You can let go, dammit," said the monk thickly. Cautiously, the guitarist did so. Tatsuha sat up again and gave his brother the stare of a basilisk. Hiro and Shuichi exchanged uneasy glances. Even Eiri seemed taken aback by the cold hatred he was facing.

"If I'd known you felt that strongly about it," the writer half-apologized, "I wouldn't have said anything. No need to go crazy on me, little brother."

Shuichi picked the rabbit off the floor and put it back on the sofa next to the monk, patting it gently. Tatsuha stared at his stuffed animal, his face bleak.

At that moment Eiri noticed his glasses. "Dammit, Tatsuha, you BROKE them! How the hell am I going to write?"

"You deserved it," the monk retorted.

Quickly, Shuichi interrupted. "You've got a spare pair, Eiri, remember?"

"Yeah, I do," said the writer. "I ought to make you pay for these, Tatsuha, but I know you're too damned poor. Do me a favor, brat, and stay out of my way for the rest of the morning."

Tatsuha threw his blanket aside and stormed into the bathroom. He was wearing a discarded silk dress shirt of his brother's, just long enough for modesty, but no other clothing. He slammed the door shut behind himself.

"Damn, I need my migraine pills," Eiri muttered. "I'm glad I keep them in the kitchen."

"Uh, ready to go?" Shuichi asked Hiro. "Suguru's waiting for us."

"Definitely," the guitarist replied.

* * *

Later that night, Tatsuha and Shuichi were dressing, preparing for an evening of clubbing. As he waited for Shuichi to finish, the monk thought bitterly/Why me? Why do I keep falling in love with those I can't have?/

First it was Ryuichi, now it seemed to be--

Tatsuha glanced down at himself. He was wearing a sleeveless black shirt under his leather jacket, skintight leather pants borrowed from his brother, and motorcycle boots. /I wonder if he'll like these clothes./

/No, stop it, you miserable fucker. He's in love with Ayaka. Ayaka's your friend. You promised you're going to help them get together. Unrequited love? So what? You've lived with years of it because of Ryuichi. You can deal with a little more of the same./

He was determined not to look at the sofa. Despite himself, he did, peering at a lop-eared blue rabbit sitting on his pillow. It rippled suddenly as Tatsuha's eyes stung. The office door opened and Tatsuha wiped his eyes quickly, grimacing. No one ever caught Tatsuha Uesugi in the middle of angst, for that was just too plebian. Besides, angsting was Eiri's fucking job, so Tatsuha couldn't do it.

"Is Shuichi ready? Why's it taking him so long?" Eiri was wearing an old pair of glasses as he stepped out of the office, his expression disgusted. "I'm dying to get you two the hell out of my apartment this evening."

"Kami-sama knows," the monk muttered. He thought he could trust himself to turn around now. "Can you answer a weird question? What do Hiro and Ayaka see in each other?"

The writer raised an eyebrow at the unexpected question. "Each wants something from the other they don't have in their own lives. Hiro's her glamour, and she's his quiet. I'm sure Ayaka is stifled as hell at the Usami temple, and Hiro, though he doesn't complain, wants a peaceful sanctuary he can escape to. I can assure you from personal experience that a certain brat makes life far too excitable for him." The writer glared at the bedroom door. "Hurry up in there!"

"Anyway," Eiri continued, "why are you so interested in them?"

Tatsuha ignored the question, instead reaching out to smack the bottom of the cigarette pack his brother was holding. Two cigarettes flew upwards and Tatsuha snagged them in mid-air, and slipped them inside his jacket pocket.

"Hey! Gimme those back, you little monster."

"Payment for this morning," Tatsuha retorted, dancing protectively away towards the front door. "You should know better than to make fun of a man's rabbit."

Eiri was about to chase him when the bedroom door opened. Shuichi stepped out in gel and spangles. "Hey," the singer called, "Tatsuha-kun's worse than I am for once!" The singer was wearing an old concert outfit, pale green slacks and silver-lettered T-shirt. For Shuichi, this was subdued.

"Yeah, how come you're in slut-gear tonight?" the writer asked his brother. "You damn well better not be planning on bringing anyone back here."

"FUCK OFF," Tatsuha flared. "This is perfectly appropriate for clubbing. Get off my back already. Did you call a cab, Shu?"

"Sure, I--"

"What did you say to me?" Eiri asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I told you to fuck off," Tatsuha repeated.

"Do you realize you're ONE INCH from being kicked out and sent to Mika's? First you shatter my glasses, and now you're--Mmmph!"

"Guys, this isn't the time for a quarrel," Shuichi interrupted breathily, breaking up the fight the only way he knew, with a lengthy kiss planted on Eiri's mouth.

Tatsuha turned hastily away from the sight of the two men. Even as Eiri returned the kiss, the writer's eyes watched his brother over Shuichi's shoulder, narrowing with thought and suspicion.

"Does this disturb you, Tatsuha?" Eiri asked when the kiss broke off. "The sight of two men--kissing? Or doing this?" He roughly groped Shuichi with no warning and the singer yelped.

"No!" Tatsuha retorted.

"Look at me," Eiri demanded.

Sullenly, Tatsuha turned around.

"What the hell's bothering you?" the writer demanded.

"Nothing!"

Silently, Eiri watched his brother for a moment. "Who is it?" he asked.

"What?! Nobody! What are you talking about? Shu, I think that's our cab. Let's go."

Just after Tatsuha stepped out the front door, Eiri grabbed Shuichi's arm, halting him.

"Look after him tonight," Eiri said in a low voice. "He's in one of his trash-everything moods. I don't want him getting into trouble. And for God's sake keep him from either bringing or going home with somebody. I don't want to deal with the aftermath."

Shuichi nodded in reply, but thought Eiri was just being a worried older brother. If anything, the singer felt that trouble had something to fear from Tatsuha, not the other way around.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 3.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

AN: Lemon Warning.

* * *

They met up with Hiro and Suguru near the front door of the club. "Have you guys any idea how I'm going to get inside?" Suguru asked. The diminutive keyboardist had tried to dress older and bulkier in a long, leopard print coat and hat (the ensemble was the only one cousin Tohma would consent to part with).

"Why'd you wear that outfit if you want to be inconspicuous?" Hiro commented.

Suguru lifted the brim of his hat, which was drooping over his face, "Hey, at least it disguises me and adds a few years. But that won't help if they card me. Any suggestions?" Two hefty-looking bouncers were guarding the door of the club, scowling at the waiting line of people.

"The guy on the right is Michio, remember him? He danced in one of our videos a few months ago. I'd think he might do us a favor," Shuichi said thoughtfully.

Hiro nodded, remembering the man. Michio was an awfully good dancer, and did bit parts in movies, but he still had to help out at the club here on weekends to make ends meet.

"Yeah, but he knows I'm 17," Suguru objected.

"I have an idea," Tatsuha said. "Shuichi and Hiro, you two go over and talk to Michio. That will distract him for a moment. Suguru, stay behind them and out of his sight. I'll distract the other bouncer, and then you slip inside, Suguru."

"What are you planning?" Shuichi asked uneasily.

Tatsuha grinned. "Nothing serious. Let's get in line."

When they approached the door, Shuichi and Hiro came up together, shielding Suguru like a wall. "Hey, Michio, we haven't seen you for a while," Shuichi said.

Meanwhile Tatsuha, who had unzipped his leather jacket, met the other bouncer with a seductive smile. "Hi," he said throatily. "I'm carrying loaded weapons." Then he lifted his arms above his head for the search and rocked his heels apart.

A look of stupidity crossed the bouncer's face, but he patted Tatsuha down. Tatsuha winked over his shoulder at the waiting line of people, who began to catcall and laugh.

"You moron!" Michio yelled, slapping the other bouncer across the head. "He did that to me a couple of weeks ago."

In that instant, Suguru eased inside the club, Shuichi stepping quickly after him.

"But was he carrying loaded weapons?" the bouncer persisted.

"Idiot!" Michio shouted.

Hiro grabbed Tatsuha by the jacket, dragging him after Shuichi. "Wait a second," Tatsuha said, halting by Michio. "May I have the next dance?"

Without looking at the monk, Michio crossed his arms and muttered, "Maybe."

"What are you doing?" Hiro hissed.

The monk yanked his leather jacket out of Hiro's hand. "Just go in, Shu's waiting for us."

Irritated, the guitarist led the way past the crowd of bodies, while reflecting on what good looks, sultry dressing, and a complete lack of morals could do.

Shuichi was watching for them. Suguru had already found a booth in a corner, and as Tatsuha made for it, the singer stopped Hiro. "Yuki told me his brother's in a reckless mood. We're supposed to keep him out of trouble tonight."

"How did I get included in this? He's not my responsibility!" Hiro protested, watching the monk sit down next to Suguru. God, Fujisaki looked exactly like Tohma in that outfit. It was unnerving, partying with someone who kept reminding you of your boss.

"What are you drinking?" Tatsuha asked the other two when they sat down.

"Beer, I guess," Shuichi replied.

"So am I," added Tatsuha.

"Wait a minute," the singer replied. "You're too young to legally drink and besides Yuki won't let you."

"Aniki's not here and he does, too. Haven't you ever seen me downing his Budweisers?"

"I'm not going to let either you or Suguru drink," Shuichi insisted.

Fujisaki ignored him. He was already perusing the drinks menu with a professional eye. "I wonder if they have any single-malt Scotches," he mused.

Just then the barman came up for their drink orders. To the singer's irritation, Tatsuha ordered a beer anyway.

"And a Lagavulin on the rocks," Suguru added. "With--," the keyboardist paused dramatically, "--6 maraschino cherries. The cherries are very important."

"Yes, Mr. Se--Seguchi?"

Suguru gave a sage nod of his leopard print hat. After the barman left, Hiro said, "You've just ruined your cousin's reputation for cool. Maraschino cherries?"

"It's not my fault he's too stupid to take his drinks with them," Suguru replied.

"Just one beer, Tatsuha," said the singer. "You promise me that."

"All right. I promise that's the only drink you'll see me take." The monk glanced aside at Hiro, who was wondering why that wording sounded so suspicious.

The drinks arrived, and Tatsuha took a sip of his beer. "Crap," said the monk. "I just remembered I hate beer."

"What?! You're always drinking Yuki's!" replied a very startled Shuichi.

"That's because it's free. I don't actually like the way it tastes, but Aniki never has anything better. Would you like my beer?"

"Um, sure." Shuichi took it, and then realized with two drinks already, he might as well slug one down and nurse the other. He did so, then narrowed his eyes when Tatsuha waved at the barman. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not having a beer, so I'm getting something else." Tatsuha pointed at the menu. "This one here."

The barman nodded. "A Depth Charge? Very good."

"Hey!" Shuichi clawed at the disappearing barman, but was unable to stop him. "Tatsuha! You promised."

"What? I'm only having one drink, and it hasn't even touched my lips yet."

"One drink? More like four! The last time I had one of those Hiro had to tie me to the back of his cycle with bungee cords to get me home."

"Oh, lay off him, Shindou," Suguru said, nibbling a cherry. "What did you guys think of my remix?"

"I admit I'm not too happy," Shuichi said.

"What?" Fujisaki nearly choked on his cherry. "What do you mean?"

"It's too diffuse, I suppose. It doesn't seem to have the impact it should."

"I have to agree," said Hiro.

Instead of exploding, Fujisaki only stared into space. "Diffuse," he muttered to himself, thinking. "Okay. It needs cutting, then." For another long moment he stared into the air. "It's done. I've trimmed it. I'll reprogram the track later tonight."

"What the--" began Tatsuha.

Suguru glanced at him. "I've got all the notes in my head. I've just cut the piece down mentally, and I only need to the enter the cuts into the synth. It won't take long."

Tatsuha shook his head. "Wow."

The keyboardist shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"But you have to remember several different lines of music at once in a complete arrangement, not just the melody line. That's pretty hard."

"It might be with Mahler's compositions, or someone like that. Not with Shindou's." The keyboardist smiled sardonically across the table.

"Huh?" asked Shuichi. Hiro blinked. Shu had already downed both beers, and a third had appeared from somewhere. Alcohol always went quickly to the singer's head.

"Just a comment about how much we love your songs," replied Suguru pleasantly.

Tatsuha's Depth Charge arrived at that moment, as did Michio.

"All right, kid," said the bouncer to the monk. "I've got a break. You still on? Even if the other patrons will kick the shit out of you in the parking lot afterwards?"

"Sure," replied Tatsuha.

Both Michio and Tatsuha headed over to the bar, then climbed on top of it. The patrons lining it startled backwards, and someone, who seemed to be in on this, switched the music to Bad Luck's 'Malevolence.' This was the song Michio had danced to in the video. The spotlights swung over to the two men, and they began to move in sync.

Hiro gawked. This was not casual dancing. This was a performance. It was vigorous, and it was sexy. Up and down the bar they went, right through drinking glasses and ashtrays, without a mishap.

"Hey, that's pretty cool," slurred Shuichi. "Where did Tatsuha learn how to do that?" He waved at the pair, got the inspiration to join them, but only fell out of the booth face-down. Hiro dragged his singer back.

"Don't you remember?" Suguru replied. "I brought Tatsuha by to visit the set when we were filming the video. And we had that long delay because a certain singer was late for the shoot, so while we were waiting for him, Michio taught Tatsuha the steps."

Hiro swallowed, staring up at the bar. His mouth opened in a sort of muddled desire. _God_, he thought, _I wish I could dance like that, and be up there with Michio, or Tatsuha. They look so good together._

Hiro caught himself in confusion. _I'm a performer. Yeah, that's it. I ought to be that good. That's why I'm feeling so_--

"That's pretty insane," said Fujisaki.

_--__jealous_.

"Listen to that table over there," prompted Suguru.

Hiro did, and his blood froze. He caught a curse, and a mutter about faggots. Three guys were sitting there, and one of them spat loudly. They were all glaring at the bar. Although some of the people in the room were cheering the dancers on, Hiro caught angry murmurs and other comments. He looked around uneasily.

'Malevolence' ended, and Tatsuha jumped down from the bar. Both he and Michio walked back over to the booth, sweating and breathing hard. The monk swigged some of his Depth Charge. "That was fun," he said to Michio. "Stay and have a drink with us."

"Yeah," seconded Shuichi. "That was sooooo cool."

The bouncer shook his head. "Sorry, my break's over and I have to return to work. The management doesn't let me drink on the job, anyway."

Tatsuha glanced sidelong at Hiro. "You liked it," he said.

"You were both pretty good," Hiro replied neutrally.

The barman interrupted, setting a green drink down in front of the monk. "What's this? I didn't order this."

In that second, Michio leaned towards Hiro and said in low tones, "Some of the guys in here don't like the sight of two men dancing together. They won't touch me, 'cause they gotta stay on my good side to get in here, but keep an eye on Tatsuha, okay?"

His throat suddenly dry, Hiro nodded. Michio left. Tatsuha was still talking to the barman. Shuichi looked definitely sozzled and ready to go home. And useless in a fight.

"But who bought it?" the monk was saying, pointing to his drink. Tatsuha had not noticed the bouncer's warning.

"Someone told me to send it to you anonymously," the barman explained, "with his compliments."

"His?" Tatsuha asked.

But the barman left without explaining.

_His_? Hiro echoed silently. _God, is someone making a try for Tatsuha? I already have to deal with a drunken Shuichi. Help_.

The monk was looking around. "But who could know that I like Grasshoppers?"

"What do you mean grasshoppers?" Fujisaki blurted. "Have you been taking drugs, Uesugi?"

"It's a Grasshopper," Tatsuha replied. "Vanilla ice cream with creme de menthe. I love them, but I didn't think anyone knew that. Except--" The monk's eyes widened, and he began looking around frantically.

A moment later, three people rose from their table and stepped over towards the booth.

"Noriko," Hiro said in relief. "We didn't notice you at that table, or we would have joined you."

Noriko laughed. "We certainly noticed YOU, or rather Tatsuha here. Do you have some nervous compulsion to make a spectacle out of yourself, Tatsuha? Maybe you should have been the rock musician instead of me."

Hiro glanced at the other two with Noriko. One of them was a very pretty young woman, in a leather miniskirt and pink half-shirt that looked like it had strayed out of Shuichi's closet. So did her hair, which was mussed in a way that only expensive hairdressing could provide.

The third person was a young man with shoulder-length brown hair and a boyish frame. He was dressed in jeans and a dark jacket, and wearing a baseball cap. His face was hidden in darkness, but all Hiro had to do to identify him was look at Tatsuha.

For Tatsuha had transformed. Every speck of snotty teenager was gone, replaced by a beaming, dark-haired angel. It was obvious to anyone who wasn't dead that the monk was in love.

"Haven't any of you, besides Tatsuha of course, recognized Ryuichi?" Noriko said. "You haven't said hello to him yet."

"You bought me this Grasshopper!" Tatsuha exclaimed. "This is so great!"

"I remembered you liked them," replied Ryuichi. His handsome face was completely enigmatic, hidden in the darkness under his cap. Then Hiro saw a barely perceptible smile, and blue eyes watching the monk with warmth.

"Good evening, Ryuichi, Noriko," said Suguru with great self-possession. Since he was Tohma's cousin and protege, he'd known the Nittle Grasper members nearly all his life. Fujisaki didn't even bother with honorifics. "And a good evening as well, Nakamura-san," the keyboardist said to the mini-skirted young woman. "I wanted to tell you I really like 'To Love You Breathless.' I believe our friend Sakano produced it for you, didn't he?"

Hiro woke up. This was the famous pop singer Amori Nakamura, another NG artist. The guitarist kicked Shuichi to attention under the table. "Pleased to meet you as well," Hiro added. Amori's song was currently number one on the charts right now, and Hiro absolutely detested it. But that was no reason to be rude to her. He guessed Suguru was just being diplomatic about 'Breathless.' Suguru always said he loved songs when he really cared about them. 'Really liked,' was just Fujisaki-talk.

Shuichi managed a friendly smile to Amori, then slid under the table and collapsed on top of Hiro's feet. Amori was looking at the men in a puzzled way. "Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed in her trademark, high-pitched voice. "You're Bad Luck!" She glanced down at the floor. "Is something wrong with your singer?"

"Shuichi's just had enough to drink," said Hiro.

"More than enough," added Suguru with a weary air.

"Excuse me," Noriko interrupted. She was looking at the glass of Scotch in Suguru's hand. "But how old were you on your last birthday?"

"Is this pertinent to anything?" Fujisaki asked with a lift of his eyebrows.

"Seventeen, as I recall," said Noriko, tapping her fingers. "Too young to drink, or enter this club. Are you going to leave with me quietly, boy, or do I tell Tohma?"

"Hey, I may be underage, but I'm not the one who's under the table. It's our OVERAGE lead singer who's slobbering drunk. I'm a responsible person who's actually going to be working on our music later tonight."

"Then you won't mind if I take you home," said Noriko. "And you, Tatsuha. How old are you? And what are you drinking?"

"It's okay, Nori-chan. That drink's not alcoholic," Ryuichi interrupted. The singer winked at Tatsuha. He turned to face his bandmate, and for a brief moment the lights caught his face, exposing his fine looks and melting expression. But Noriko, who was used to his wiles, only frowned at the monk.

"I'm not going to be staying late," Tatsuha assured her.

"Well, all right. But if you do anything stupid I'll tell Mika."

Seeing an opportunity, Hiro spoke up. "Could you take Shuichi home, too?"

"You bastard!" Fujisaki cried. "You'd burden us with him?"

"He's a docile, agreeable drunk," Hiro protested. "I ought to know."

"Okay," Noriko sighed. "Somebody give me a hand."

With Ryuichi's and Hiro's help, Shuichi was dragged out from under the table, and Hiro helped guide his lead singer towards the door and out to Noriko's car. He bade Noriko and Suguru goodnight, and went back inside. When he reached the table again, he noticed that Tatsuha's demeanor had changed. The snotty teenager was back, and Hiro saw why.

Tatsuha had noticed that Amori's arm was around his beloved Ryuichi-sama. Even worse, Ryuichi's arm was around Amori.

Tatsuha death-glared her. Fortunately, Amori hadn't noticed.

"I forgot to introduce you," Ryuichi was saying. "This is my friend, Tatsuha-kun."

Just in time, Tatsuha hid the glare behind a polite smile.

"Oh," said Amori, appraising him.

"Why don't you dance with him?" Ryuichi suggested.

Tatsuha was surprised, but then he glanced at Amori and suddenly seemed to realize that she was 1) actually rather pretty, 2) so famous the whole room was gaping at her, and she was 3) checking him out.

To Hiro, it looked like Tatsuha's male hormones suddenly woke up and slapped the monk across the face.

"Sure, I'd love to. If you don't mind."

"Go ahead," Ryuichi urged.

Tatsuha took Amori's hand, and led her out to the dance floor. Ryuichi sat down with Hiro and sipped some of the Grasshopper.

"Um, isn't that Tatsuha's?" the guitarist said.

"It's okay. Ta-kun and I often share drinks," Ryuichi said.

_That must drive Tatsuha nuts, if Sakuma won't be his lover_, thought Hiro.

* * *

Out on the dance floor, Amori asked, "Are you gay?"

"What? Oh, you're asking because of that bouncer. No, I'm not. I just wanted to dance with someone who was really good at it." He smiled at Amori. "I like women."

"Really? Then prove it."

Though taken aback, Tatsuha never turned down challenges like this. When the song ended, the two left the dance floor for one of the club's back rooms.

* * *

"I wonder where they are?" Hiro asked, annoyed. Tatsuha didn't know his own luck. The monk was dancing with Amori Nakamura, for God's sake, yet he was so infatuated by Ryuichi that he probably didn't even care. Hiro had the urge to go find Tatsuha, shake him thoroughly, and drag him back to the booth. _I'm not a jealous man_, he thought. _I have Ayaka. She may not be an Amori Nakamura, but I know she's a nicer person than Amori._

"I thought Ta-kun seemed upset about something," Ryuichi commented, sliding his baseball cap back. Since he was facing away from the dance floor, there was little fear he would be recognized.

"Well, I think he was bothered by Amori."

"That's why I suggested he dance with her. He's a good friend, and I'd hate it if he were jealous of me."

"Um, I don't think that was the problem. He was jealous of Amori, not you."

Ryuichi looked blank. "Why? Does he want to be a female pop singer?"

Hiro couldn't help laughing. "No, he's in love with you."

The next moment, Hiro saw two exclamation points in Ryuichi's eyes, and the singer blew green ice cream all over the table.

_My God_, thought Hiro. _He doesn't_ KNOW? _Tatsuha's never told him_? HE HASN'T EVEN NOTICED?

_What have I done_? the guitarist wondered. He had shocked Sakuma. Was this going to wreck the friendship between the singer and the monk? If so, Tatsuha would murder him.

Ryuichi looked dazed, still holding his glass. He looked down at his dripping fingers, and stammered, "I--I need to get him another drink." He waved for the barman.

Feebly, Hiro said, "I guess everyone knew except you."

Ryuichi stared. "Everyone?"

"Yeah, everyone did. Shuichi, me, Yuki, Mika, Tohma, Noriko, heck, everyone did. Tatsuha never hid his feelings." _Except from you_.

"How come no one told me?" Ryuichi asked angrily.

"I guess they thought you must know. Haven't you ever seen Tatsuha's face? He just glows when he sees you."

The second Grasshopper arrived, and Ryuichi drank from it without seeming to be aware of it. "But all my fans look at me like that. And Tatsuha's a big fan."

"More than a fan," replied Hiro.

_I thought I was doing Tatsuha a favor. He's helping me with Ayaka, so I thought I'd help him with Sakuma. But I've just friggin' blown it. Why did I do this_?

"Has he," Ryuichi asked hesitantly, "dated other men? I thought he liked girls. He's young enough that maybe he's not sure of his feelings. It might be a phase."

"I don't think he's dating any guy right now, at least. But he's always made it clear that he's physically attracted to men as well as women." Hiro gazed around the dance floor. Where was Tatsuha anyway? He couldn't find Amori, either. "You don't see them, do you?" Uneasily, Hiro glanced aside at that table with the hostile men.

The singer looked around briefly, and couldn't locate them, either. "I think he's in one of the back rooms with her."

"Huh? What for?"

"Having sex, I suppose," Ryuichi said calmly.

Hiro choked on his beer.

In that moment, he saw Tatsuha and Amori again. The pair were stepping out of a hallway, heading towards the booth. There was something odd about them, but Hiro was distracted by turning heads and venomous looks from the crowd. If the bigots had been angry at Tatsuha before, they were almost foaming now. To have Amori Nakamura was too much for them. And it was plain that Tatsuha had indeed been 'doing something' with Amori. Both had a wasted, rumpled air. Amori's makeup was pawed, and she was hiking her underwear back into place beneath her miniskirt.

Hiro was wide-eyed at the thought of what Ryuichi might do.

The pair arrived, and Ryuichi stood up, stepping between them. If Hiro had been surprised before, he was astonished now. Ryuichi put an arm around Tatsuha's shoulder, and gently brushed some of the teen's damp hair out of his face. Ryuichi's other arm went over Amori's shoulder and down, sliding underneath her neckline to fondle her chest.

Hiro blinked.

"You'll have to excuse Amori and myself," said the singer. "I'm glad I could introduce you." He let go of Tatsuha and added, "I've bought you another drink. I'll see you later."

"Goodnight," the monk said to both of them. He had a weary, sated look in his eyes.

Hiro's lips moved, but no noise came out. _Musicians are such friggin' weird people. Hey, wait a minute, I'm one of them._

Tatsuha sat down and began to nurse his drink. Fortunately the barman had wiped a rag over Ryuichi's spill.

"_What_ were you doing?" Hiro blurted.

"Shagging Amori in the back room," Tatsuha replied casually.

The guitarist dropped his forehead into a hand. "God, you're the only guy in Japan who could say that so calmly." _Except Ryuichi_. "I can't believe you. You moron. Ryuichi TOLD me what you were doing with her. He KNOWS." Hiro was extremely annoyed with the monk right now.

"I'm not surprised. This isn't the first time he's shared a girlfriend with me."

Hiro blinked again.

"A few of his girlfriends have told me that Ryu is rather half-hearted about sex, except right after--," a troubled look crossed Tatsuha's face, "--I shag them. Then, they say, Ryuichi acts like a man who hasn't had any for months."

"That's weird. Maybe he needs competition to become interested. I know Sakuma likes to be number one, both as a performer, and maybe also as--oh, I don't know," Hiro concluded. This wasn't making sense.

"I don't know, either," Tatsuha admitted. "I've never understood it. But he's not mad at me, don't worry."

YOU _don't know what he's thinking right now_. Hiro retorted silently. _Now that Ryuichi knows you're in love with him, he may break off your friendship. And why do I feel so pleased about that? I don't hate Tatsuha enough to want to destroy his happiness. What's the matter with me? I feel so MAD at him._

"Little games like that will backfire on you," Hiro said.

"Why do you care?" the monk sneered.

"Look, Shuichi asked me to keep an eye on you."

Tatsuha's eyes became hostile slits. "I don't need a babysitter," he retorted. He stood up, and before Hiro could stop him, he was at the bar. As he passed the table of bigots, the guitarist saw their heads swivel like wolves getting a scent.

_I have to get him out of here. Michio was right. He's going to get a beating in the parking lot_.

Tatsuha struck up a conversation with some guy with green-dyed hair. Hiro studied the room for the right moment, then tried to ease his way across to Tatsuha without being noticed. By the time he reached the bar he was staring at a kiss. The monk and Greenie were leaning together, lips locked. One of Greenie's hands was stroking Tatsuha's bare upper arm.

Hiro took a fistful of the sleeveless shirt in front of him, and yanked hard. Lips unlocked as Tatsuha staggered backwards.

"What are you doing?" said the monk furiously.

"Yeah, who the hell are you?" Greenie asked.

Hiro flipped him off as he dragged Tatsuha away. The guitarist had hooked his fingers into the monk's belt to tow him, and they almost fell into the booth. "Put this on," Hiro said, throwing Tatsuha's leather jacket at him. "We're going home." Several people were watching them argue, and he could hear insults and catcalls coming at them from a few of the other tables.

"_What?_ YOU have NO right to order me around." The monk did, however, put on his leather jacket.

"If it's for your own good, I do." Hiro sat down to try to avoid notice. Tatsuha did so as well.

"Look, some of these guys want to beat you up. We're leaving right now." _God, we sound like we're having a lover's quarrel._

The monk took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, and lit it. "Aw, little Hiro's worried about me."

Hiro glared.

Tatsuha slid along the booth seat until he was right up against the other man. He took a drag, then said coyly, "But I'm not ready to leave yet, Hiro."

_I'm going to strangle you_, thought the guitarist.

"I'm not leaving until you buy me a drink."

"This is blackmail!"

"Of course." Tatsuha's arm went around Hiro's shoulders, and the guitarist was too distracted to shrug it off.

Someone said in a jeering tone, "Which one do you think is the seme?"

"Not the one with the long hair, he's too effeminate," another voice sneered.

Hiro was beginning to get scared.

Tatsuha waved at the barman, who came over. "Sake on the rocks," said the monk. "Three of them. Nakano's paying."

"Three sakes on your boyfriend's tab, then," said the barman, walking off.

"Hey!" blurted Hiro. He wasn't sure what upset him more. The sakes, or the fact that the whole club now seemed to think he was Tatsuha's boyfriend. He suddenly became aware of Tatsuha's arm and shook it off. "Listen to me. Don't you hear those men? They've been threatening you ever since you danced with Michio. We have to get out of here NOW!"

Tatsuha gave the other table a brief, dismissive glance. "There's jerks like that in every club." He moved closer, so close that the smoke he exhaled went right up Hiro's nostrils. Two obsidian eyes were staring at the guitarist, half-hidden by hair. Hiro swallowed.

_Couldn't he at least look embarrassed? He seems pleased that everybody thinks we're boyfriends._

"Oh, God. I think they're about to kiss. I'm ready to throw up," said one of the thugs.

The sake arrived, and Tatsuha asked, "By the way, how did you arrive here?"

"On my bike."

Tatsuha nodded, then knocked the drinks back, one after the other without pause, not even for breathing.

"You crazy--!" Hiro blurted.

Then Tatsuha leaned forward, and Hiro felt alcohol-cooled lips brush his neck. He gasped.

"Okay, let's go," said the monk, rising.

Hiro sat dazed by the unexpected kiss, and by the strength of his body's arousal to it. Then he remembered the thugs. He jumped up, and shoved through the dancers towards the door. They had to pass the table of bigots on the way, and Tatsuha stopped. The monk took a long drag, turning the end of his cigarette red hot as he stared malevolently at them. Then he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it right into the face of the man who'd made the kissing remark.

"You filthy fucker!" the man yelled.

Tatsuha bolted after Hiro, laughing manically. All three men sprang up and chased him. Hiro shot out of the front of the club. Tatsuha was going to have to look after himself for a second, because that cycle had to start on the first kick. If it didn't, there were going to be two bloody corpses heading for the morgue.

The guitarist jumped on and started the engine. Tatsuha was running madly out into the parking lot, but the three guys were right behind him. Hiro revved the engine and took off for the front door.

But just as the thugs came running up to the doors, Michio and his fellow bouncer swung them shut. The pursuers piled against the glass in a heap.

"Hurry up, kid! Fire codes forbid locking these doors!" Michio called out light-heartedly. Hiro slowed the motorcycle, and Tatsuha jumped on. The guitarist gunned the engine and they fishtailed out of the parking lot, the monk yelling, "Thanks!"

It was late night, only light traffic on the streets, and the guitarist's heart was beating wildly as they blasted past the speed limit. He was giddy from their near-escape, from the power of the bike under him, heads turning to watch the cycle fly past. When Tatsuha's arms hugged his waist, he felt a deep, sexual thrill.

He rode with that feeling for several blocks, Tatsuha's grip tightening more and more with every fast turn they took. Laughing at the monk behind him, he shouted, "Scared?"

"No!"

Which was true, Hiro realized, when Tatsuha ran a hand down the zipper seam of the guitarist's jeans, and rubbed with vicious strength against the hardness there.

The next thing Hiro knew, he was sprawled in the gutter, the motorcycle lying between his legs in a messy way.

"Tatsuha, I'm going to FUCKING MURDER you."

With great effort, the guitarist was able to slide out from under the heavy machine. His whole left leg was sore, as were his hip and elbow. Now, where was his murder victim? He looked around, and saw Tatsuha lying behind him in the gutter, unmoving. Alarmed, Hiro sat up, and limped over.

"Tatsuha? Hey, moron, are you hurt?"

The figure moved a little. "Winded," the other gasped.

"Help me lift this bike back up," Hiro snapped. "I suppose you're still alive? That'll teach you not to fondle guys without their consent."

"Oh, God," Tatsuha groaned in reply, trying to rise. "I think I sprained my ankle."

"Give me a hand here."

But when the monk tried to stand, he winced and fell back down to the curb. "Can't."

Hiro cursed and was able to heave the motorcycle up by himself. He got the kickstand down and the two rested on the curb for a few minutes.

"I ought to just leave you here," the guitarist said finally.

"Sorry, man. Didn't know it'd make you lose control of your bike." The monk fell silent, pondering the state of Hiro's temper. "I really can't walk right now," he added meekly.

Hiro sighed hard. "Get on, and keep your blasted hands to yourself."

Tatsuha tried to stand again, couldn't, and inched along on the curb. Then he pulled himself up, holding onto the bike, and tried to swing a leg over, but failed. He was wobbling partially because of the aftermath of the accident, partially because of the alcohol, and partially from fear of hurting his ankle. Hiro finally had to lift him on.

This time, Tatsuha held onto the bar behind himself, as Hiro took off. A few minutes later they arrived at the guitarist's apartment building.

"Where--?"

"My place." Tatsuha's drunkenness was bad enough, but a sprained ankle from a motorcycle accident (in which Hiro had been driving) was even worse. The guitarist thought Eiri Yuki could wait a day or so to see his brother. He parked and stepped off, and was a little surprised to see Tatsuha wasn't moving. The monk had his eyes tightly shut, head down.

"What's the matter?"

"Feeling sick."

Hiro grabbed the monk's arm and helped him off the bike, and over onto the sidewalk next to the apartments. Feverishly, he tried to find some less embarrassing place for the monk to throw up, but there wasn't any. At least they were away from the streetlights.

Tatsuha fell to his knees, and the guitarist gasped, looking down.

Tatsuha had yanked down Hiro's fly, and snaked his fingers inside the slit of Hiro's briefs. "You move, I squeeze," the monk threatened. He was holding the guitarist in both hands, and gave a tug, not painful enough to really hurt, but to show he meant his threat. Hiro yelped and stopped struggling.

"Dammit, let go!"

The monk ignored him. "Wet," Tatsuha gloated. "You came on that bike. And you're hard again." He licked the dripping tip, and slid his tongue along the underside.

Hiro groaned. He couldn't do this, not here. Yet he couldn't resist. With dizzy paranoia, he looked up, feeling the stars begin to spin. He was swaying with pleasure. Car lights were passing on the street nearby, and he didn't care. He pressed his fist against the apartment window next to him so he could stay upright, watching the lamplight through the curtains. What would happen if someone opened it?

Cruelly, the monk was taking his time. Hot wetness gliding gently over the tip, a tight circle of fingers stroking further up. And with the other hand, a massage over the fullness behind, which Tatsuha had just mistreated a moment ago.

The blood seemed to leave Hiro's eyeballs, only pinpoints of vision left to him. He began to shove hard, repeatedly and furiously, and he slammed Tatsuha's head against the stone wall behind. He knew he was hurting the teenager, but didn't care.

_He owes me this. For torturing me in the club, for the bike accident, for that nasty little yank. He wanted a cheap pickup, so I'll give him one_.

The guitarist gave one final, voluptuous shudder. "Let me go," he sobbed a moment later. He was finally released, and staggered back a few steps, falling to his knees, but he still managed to shove everything back inside his jeans and zip them up.

For a moment he just knelt there, too lost in the sensuous aftermath to move. Then he opened his eyes, and became aware that Tatsuha was lying on his face. Shakily, Hiro crawled forward, and turned the monk over. Tatsuha's eyes were shut, but he was still breathing. The monk had passed out.

_He's completely drunk. No wonder he was behaving like a madman. Wait a minute--before Sakuma, he was mostly normal. It wasn't until after Sakuma left that he started doing all those crazy things._

_ I'm such an idiot, why didn't I notice that? He had to watch the love of his life walk off with someone else. At least I don't have to witness Ayaka doing that all the time._

Hiro worked an arm under the black leather jacket, and another under Tatsuha's knees. With a great heave, he lifted the monk into his arms.

_I'm sorry, Tatsuha. Shuichi asked me to look after you, and I failed_.

"You poor, crazy kid," he groaned, stepping heavily with his burden towards the front door to the apartments.

* * *

Continued in chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

When Hiro rose from his futon and crept past his bed the next morning, Tatsuha was sitting up on it. The monk's hair was falling all over like weightless spider silk, and his eyes were vague with sleep. A red crease marred his slender right arm, left there by a wrinkle in the bedspread.

Unbidden, the thought came to the guitarist, _If he were my boyfriend, this is what he would look like in the morning_.

_Well, presumably he wouldn't always be hungover_.

Hiro glanced away quickly, for Tatsuha's mussed beauty was unnerving. Thus he missed the grimace of pain on the monk's face as he tried to move his foot.

"Hiro?"

"Yeah?" The guitarist had escaped into his small kitchen, intending to get breakfast, but he was too confused to focus on what, or even where, anything was.

_My heart's pounding. I can't go back out and face him. What if he remembers that drunken blow job he gave me? He'll die of embarrassment. I'LL die of embarrassment._

"Hiro? I can't seem to put my weight on this foot."

That drew Hiro out. A problem both young men could safely hide behind. Tatsuha was standing, balancing himself between the bed and the wall. He was shifting his weight to his swollen ankle, his eyes shut. Then he opened his eyes and shook his head. "I can't do it." The monk sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Can you rotate the foot?"

Tatsuha nodded, carefully tilting his foot around to demonstrate. The ankle was still somewhat puffy.

"I put some ice on it last night," Hiro said. "You were asleep by then. It's more swollen than it was, but I think the ice helped." The guitarist handed his guest a glass of water and some aspirin, and Tatsuha gulped the pills down eagerly.

"God, I need this for my headache as well. Thanks for the ice."

There were dark circles under his eyes, Hiro noticed. "Why don't you sleep some more? My kitchen's almost empty, so I need to buy a few things for breakfast." _And gather myself together_. "By the way, I called your brother last night and told him you were staying here."

"Thanks," said the monk faintly. "I totally forgot about calling him myself. In fact, I'm not sure I remember much about last night at all."

_Good_, thought Hiro with relief.

* * *

Outside, Hiro came across a fruit vendor in the street. As he picked out his choices, he wondered what an affair with Tatsuha would be like. Greedy and lustful, probably; and rather dangerous, like having an affair with a panther. It would have to be kept secret, since he could not risk his musical career. But he doubted whether Tatsuha had any discretion.

_Just as well I'm only speculating about it_.

The guitarist also wondered why Ryuichi, as gentle as the singer was, wasn't put off by Tatsuha's aggressiveness. Maybe there was something about their friendship he didn't understand.

_Maybe I don't really know Tatsuha at all_.

He had a sudden vivid mental image of himself sitting with Tatsuha on a bed, running his hands up soft skin inside a white T-shirt, kissing hungrily. He was so startled by the image he nearly dropped the plastic bag the vendor handed over to him.

_Why a white T-shirt? He's not wearing one. His black shirt looks better on him anyway, molding to his chest._

The vendor was waiting for his money. The guitarist shook himself awake, and handed over the yen.

_Bonehead, stop thinking thoughts like that_.

* * *

When Hiro returned from his shopping, he found Tatsuha sitting on a chair the monk had dragged into the kitchen. He was seated in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot. An open can and a carton of eggs were nearby, and toast popped up the instant Hiro stuck his head in.

"Just in time!" Tatsuha sang, looking remarkably recovered from his hangover. "My egg jam is coming together and the toast is ready."

"Egg jam?"

"They eat it in places like Singapore. It's got eggs and coconut milk and sugar and you spread it on toast. It's sort of a custard."

"Is it any good?"

"Damned if I know," replied the cook light-heartedly. "I've never tasted it before, or even made it before, so you're my guinea pig."

"I bought some fruit for us." Hiro emptied the plastic sack on the counter.

"Hey! Are those mangosteens? I love 'em. And you've got some lichee, feijoas, and red bananas. Great, put them on the breakfast table."

_He's acting like he lives here_, thought Hiro. _He's taken over my kitchen and he's giving me orders in my own apartment_. And again came the involuntary notion, _but if he were my boyfriend, this would be normal._

"You know, you're just like Ryuichi."

Tatsuha stopped stirring.

"You step in and create havoc. You're also very playful, and so's he."

Tatsuha didn't reply, changing the subject instead. "Where's your dishes and knives?"

In a few minutes Hiro had set the table and helped Tatsuha back into the main room. The monk sat on the floor with one leg out to keep the pressure off his ankle, and soon they were talking and making a mess of fruit peels, sampling their toast with egg jam and declaring it good.

Midway through the feast, Hiro remembered to offer his guest a fresh shirt, and found his eyes drawn across the low table as Tatsuha put it on. Though tall, the monk's bones were not yet done growing, and his musculature was more delicate than Hiro's.

_He really is still a kid_, reflected the guitarist.

Or so Hiro thought until he noticed Tatsuha's eyes, and the sly smile. _I know what you're looking at_, those eyes said as their owner bared his teenaged chest.

Hiro blushed.

"It was nice of you to give up your own bed for me," Tatsuha commented.

"No problem. I've got a couple of spare futons, since I'm always putting up Shuichi or my brother. I really ought to get a bigger apartment with the constant guests I have."

"Your apartment's surprisingly modest."

"I'm not a decorator," Hiro replied a little defensively.

"I didn't mean to criticize you. I just meant the scale of your place is much more--how shall I put it?--human than someone like my brother's." Tatsuha smiled, and there was something unexpectedly kind in the expression. "This plac--like you--doesn't seem to care whether it impresses anybody or not."

"It's certainly not as interesting as your family's temple."

The monk was surprised. "You've seen it?"

Hiro nodded. "Bad Luck played Kyoto last year, and Shuichi wanted us to visit your temple. None of you were there at the time, so your housemaid, Hana, gave us a tour of the living quarters." Hiro gave his guest a sly look. "We also saw the OTHER shrine. The one to Ryuichi."

Now Tatsuha was the one who blushed.

"We all made comments about it as well."

The monk reddened even more. "Like what?"

"Um, 'poor Ryuichi'?"

"Who said that!" Tatsuha shouted.

"It was K," Hiro replied with a laugh. Needling Tatsuha was rather fun. Then for one idiotic second, his mouth ran ahead of his brain. "Are you going to stay in touch with that Amori chick?"

_Oh, no. Why did I say that? I didn't want him to remember last night_.

There was no reply for a long moment, and Hiro looked across the table. His guest was studying a half-eaten slice of toast.

"H--Hiro."

The guitarist tensed at the sudden nervous stutter.

"I think I need to apologize for last night," said the monk slowly.

"What for? Tricking the bouncer into feeling you up? Annoying every bigot in the place by dancing with a man? Making a pass at another guy with green hair? Shagging your best friend's girlfriend--"

"She's not his girlfriend!" Tatsuha shouted.

"--wheedling drinks out of people, and blackmailing a few more out of me?" _I must still be mad at him. God, I can't shut up_. "Getting drunk, though you're not legal? Nearly getting us both beaten up by the previously mentioned bigots, so we had to flee for our lives? Causing a motorcycle accident? Spraining your ankle and passing out? Hey, what are you going to start with?"

Tatsuha's eyes burned. He leaned forward dangerously. "There was one thing you left out."

Hiro froze. He had been hoping the monk wouldn't remember.

"Was that because I don't need to apologize for it?" Tatsuha's face was almost touching Hiro's. The guitarist leaned away and snatched up the plates. "I need to clear the table," he proclaimed, and stepped into the kitchen. After a moment, the monk came hopping after him with the serving bowls.

"Go sit down," Hiro said. "You shouldn't be trying to get around on that ankle."

"I suppose not," the monk agreed. He set the bowls down and leaned against the counter. "Speaking of my ankle, how did I get up to your apartment last night?"

Hiro, who had been rinsing a plate, fumbled it. It crashed noisily into the sink. "Ah, you managed to climb the stairs. I suppose you don't remember." He glanced aside at Tatsuha, unable to stop himself. He found himself looking at two narrowed black eyes.

"I thought so. You carried me. How romantic!" The monk was holding a cigarette and he scratched a match against one of the cabinets to light it. He took a drag and grinned at Hiro.

"I don't allow smoking in my apartment," the guitarist said.

"I couldn't have this last night--when I should have--right after our encounter," Tatsuha retorted. He took another slow drag, staring at Hiro through the trail of smoke rising from his fingertips.

Hiro decided that Tatsuha had the most post-coital way of smoking he'd ever seen. What was it that made him look so decadent with only a burning strip of paper? Nervously, the guitarist jerked his gaze away and started again on the dishes.

"This is so domestic," said the monk. "You're washing up after our breakfast. We could be lovers."

Hiro wasn't certain if that was an offer or just a remark. He decided to treat it as a remark.

"But as I said before you rudely interrupted me, I need to apologize. Do you need a favor? Just ask me."

"Why?"

"It's my penance."

"I don't want to make you do penance."

"Look. I'm a monk. I ought to do some good to repair the evil I did. What do you need?"

"You've already said you'd help me with Ayaka. I don't need anything more."

"I insist."

"Okay. Then explain why you're such an idiot about love."

Tatsuha sucked in his breath. "Well, I made you ask." He considered a moment, then replied. "I can't get the person I love most. So I try for 2nd best, or rather 3rd or 4th, to compensate for my frustrated feelings, and end up making a fool out of myself."

Hiro was too polite to agree aloud. He didn't want to be alone any more with Tatsuha. Yet . . . he didn't want Tatsuha to leave. Somehow, it was pleasant having him here, even with the monk's flirting.

Another thought crossed his mind. _What if I fail with Ayaka? Who will be the one I marry then_?

Involuntarily, his eyes strayed towards his visitor.

"You shouldn't be smoking, you know."

Tatsuha looked at him through jagged strands of hair. "Every girlfriend I've ever had nagged me about that."

"Who do you like better, men or women?" Hiro asked.

Tatsuha didn't reply for a while, thinking. "I like both, but if you go by intensity, I'd have to say men. Girls are pleasant, but guys are more thrilling. Especially when you meet a guy who's attracted to you, but thinks he's completely heterosexual." The monk gave the guitarist a look. "There's nothing better than finally getting his back on the futon, and making him moan. But I'd like to settle down someday."

"You? Settle down?" Hiro scoffed.

Tatsuha narrowed his eyes. "If you're bi, then you mainly have one-nighters with men, because they're more sexually available than women. But that means you always have to go out prowling for your next night's fun, instead of having someone waiting for you at home. It can get tiresome, and it's sort of dangerous. And girls don't just want YOU. They also want marriage, children that go to expensive private schools, a husband with a nice job, lots of social prestige, a fat salary, etc., etc. There's a huge list of things girls want from a guy, though they try to deny they think that way. A lot of my girlfriends would get really upset when they found out I was a monk studying to be a priest. You wouldn't believe how many of them have tried to talk me into a business career. That's why they like my brother Eiri. Though he's a lot less pleasant than me, he is nonetheless Mr. Successful Businessman. Girls LOVE him for that. As for priests, well, they don't rate."

"I'm surprised by the way you say 'Mr. Successful Businessman.' You sound contemptuous of your brother. I thought Shuichi said you two got along."

Tatsuha looked exasperated. "I love my brother, but he's an idiot. He's so messed up. He's afraid to love, but he writes about nothing BUT love. Is that a classic case of psychological sublimation, or displacement, or what? He treats Shuichi like dirt because he's afraid of being soft. He thinks all his money is going to fill that hole in his empty little heart. You think I read my brother's books? Yeah, I do. They're crap. My brother is so talented that he's Japan's most popular author at the age of 22, and he's writing trash. Though I don't agree with all my father's complaints about Eiri, my father has always been right about the main point--Eiri HAS messed up his life. Dad wasn't just ticked off because my brother abandoned the temple. If he'd replaced the old life with something worthwhile, Dad wouldn't have complained about him so much. But Eiri's cynicism, his greed, and his discarding one girl after another has upset Dad quite a bit. Yeah, my Dad doesn't have perfect morals himself, but that still doesn't mean he's wrong about Eiri. He knows Eiri's being stupid. But it'll take an emotional maturity my brother doesn't possess to admit our father is right."

Tatsuha leaned forward. "Have you heard about Kitazawa?"

Hiro nodded. "Shuichi told me the story."

The monk shook his head. "I met Kitazawa once in New York, and he was awful. I could tell even at that age. He was a smiling little flatterer and a schemer. He didn't bother being nice to me, because I was just some dumb little kid who could be no use to him, but he just sucked up to my brother, Tohma, Mika, and my father. My brother's excuses aside, truly nice guys don't suddenly turn into monsters. Eiri just loved being flattered by his teacher. 'You're such a bright boy for your age. You have such a talent for literature,' Kitazawa would say. Why do you think Eiri let Shuichi into his life when all those women failed? Shuichi FLATTERS him. All of Eiri's girlfriends were gorgeous, confident women, the only type he was ever attracted to, but they wanted praise from him as well. They didn't want to stand around like slack-jawed fans spewing admiration for him all the time, and never hearing anything in reply. Well, if you've noticed, Eiri can't bring himself to say anything nice about anybody. That was why his girlfriends never lasted."

Tatsuha mimicked Shuichi's voice sarcastically. "Oh Eiri!" the monk squealed. "You're so good-looking! You're so great in bed! You're such a great cook! You're so successful, so rich, so smart! So everything! AAAARRRGGH! HE FLATTERS MY BROTHER EXACTLY THE WAY KITAZAWA DID. But thank the gods Shuichi isn't Kitazawa." Hiro was taken aback by the monk's vehemence. "You don't think he loves Shu?"

Tatsuha frowned. "In the beginning, no. After all, he didn't even know Shuichi. But I think he loves Shu now. The little baka's worn him down. But really, Shuichi's too good for my idiotic brother. He doesn't deserve the crap my brother gives him. I know my brother's happier than he used to be. But I don't know if Shuichi is," the monk concluded darkly. "You'd know better than me."

Hiro exhaled hard in thought. "Shuichi wasn't very happy in high school. He was flunking out, had no real girlfriend or anything, and spent all his time locked up with his keyboard. I'd have to say he's better off, now. He's a famous singer, and he has Yuki."

"What about you?" Tatsuha asked, glancing around at the modest apartment. "Are you happier?"

"Heck, yeah. My parents are finally off my back. I was one of those pressured kids who are supposed to be perfect."

"But haven't you just exchanged one sort of pressure for another? Now you're supposed to be a top caliber rock musician. Things still aren't easy for you."

"I guess . . . so." Hiro was astonished. He had never considered it that way before.

"And you're still happy? Even though you're not in a relationship at the moment?"

"Yeah, well, I love the guitar. And I hope to change the latter, soon."

"Do you have that letter for Ayaka?" Tatsuha asked abruptly. Then he stared out the windows.

"Finished it last night."

"Okay." The monk shifted closer, and poured himself some tea from the pot on the stove. After drinking a little, he moved closer still, and rested his hand on Hiro's shoulder.

_Push it off_, Hiro told himself immediately. _You need to react now or he'll get the wrong idea. Push it off._

But the guitarist didn't move.

A long moment went by. Tatsuha began to run a finger around Hiro's shoulder blade. The touch was so gentle, that it took all of Hiro's self-command to grab his wrist.

"Sorry."

Tatsuha was frozen for a moment. "Well," he said slowly, "I wanted to see if you'd changed your mind. I was hoping you'd say yes."

"Yes to what? A night in the sack? Or something more? I'm not a 'night in the sack sort,' Tatsuha. I'm a 'something more' guy. That's why I turned you down."

The monk was still silent. Finally, he sighed, and looked at the floor. "I guess I was hoping for something more, too." His expression was almost pleading. "You're the sort who makes a good husband."

Hiro was shocked. Tatsuha felt THAT for him? "But you know I love Ayaka."

"Yes," the other replied softly. "I should have left you alone."

"Sorry, Tatsuha," Hiro said after a moment. "I'll be your friend, but that's it."

The monk nodded, looking away.

Hiro was amazed at how distressed he felt. "I think I need to take you home," said the guitarist finally.

* * *

Continued in chapter 5


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

After he stepped inside Eiri's apartment, Tatsuha stared out the window alongside the door. Hiro's motorcycle was starting down the road. The guitarist hadn't looked back.

Tatsuha watched until the rider disappeared, and thought, _Well, now we know which of the two of us is the baka in love, don't we?_

The monk glanced down at his borrowed slippers, resting his forehead against the glass. He was holding his boots in a plastic sack, and he dropped them to the floor with a thump. He hadn't been able to pull a boot on over his swollen ankle.

A man with blonde hair was reflected in the glass, smoking.

"This is a record. You go out clubbing and come back late the next day, and Shuichi can't even tell me what you did. If Hiro hadn't called me last night to say you were staying over, I'd be pissed. In fact, I think I'm pissed anyway."

Normally Tatsuha would have put on his innocent face and argued, but right now he was too depressed to even try. His ankle hurt, he had just been rejected, and he was carrying a love letter for his rival in his pocket. He'd insisted that Hiro give it to him, to the guitarist's amazement. _I'm not going to punish you just because I was too stupid to listen when you told me you were in love with someone else_, Tatsuha had said.

The monk stumped his way forward, slowly. As he passed his brother, Eiri grabbed his arm.

"What happened?"

"Twisted my ankle."

"What else?"

"Nothing!"

Eiri searched his brother's eyes for a moment, then let go, watching Tatsuha limp up the short flight of stairs. Shuichi, who had been loitering at the top, asked, "Want some ice for that?"

"Hiro already gave me some."

Shuichi looked relieved. Eiri gave them both a suspicious look, then followed his brother upwards. "There's a message for you from the old man. You're to call him back as soon as possible."

Tatsuha groaned silently. He didn't feel like talking to his father just now, but Uesugi-san probably only wanted to discuss some details about a funeral or something. Dad could wait.

Eiri gave Shuichi a hard look, then stepped inside his office and shut the door.

Meanwhile, Tatsuha pulled fresh clothes out of his duffel bag. In a moment, Cinderella had been transformed back into an ordinary teenager, in white T-shirt and shorts. The monk sat down on the couch and brooded, unaware that he was clutching his blue rabbit to his chest.

"You accidently left your cell phone here last night," said Shuichi. "Ryuichi tried to call you on it a little while ago."

Tatsuha perked up. "Did he say to call him back?" The monk had been trying to get Ryuichi's phone number for months without success.

"No, he said he'd try again later."

Tatsuha was downcast. He understood the singer's need for privacy, but felt that Ryuichi's possession of his own phone number, without having the singer's in return, left their friendship on an unequal footing.

"You also got a call from Ayaka. She said call her when you get in. It gave me a shock when I realized it was her on the phone," Shuichi added wryly.

Tatsuha sighed. He really did mean to deliver that letter, and talk Hiro up to her. He just couldn't make himself do it right now. Tatsuha was not a brooder, but . . . he'd really liked Hiro.

"Kami-sama!" the monk said. "I'd better get these calls over with." He started to feel around for his cell phone, and only then became aware of the rabbit in his arms. He sat it down on the couch, and hit the memory button for the temple in Kyoto.

Shuichi started up a video game.

"I want you home tomorrow," Tatsuha's father said when the monk reached him. "You're becoming betrothed to Ayaka on Sunday."

"WHAT! What is this?!"

"If you don't agree, then don't bother to come home--for good. You won't be welcome here anymore. Ayaka's parents and I have already made the arrangements for the betrothal."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Tatsuha was flailing mentally, trying to grasp his father's words through a fog of pure shock. After a second of wild thought, he wailed into the phone, "This is blackmail! You aren't giving me a choice in this? You've gone insane!"

"No, I'm not crazy, and I'm not giving you a choice. Stop your whining. If something goes wrong, then you can always break off the engagement. And the marriage won't be for some years, anyway. Neither the Usamis nor myself think it proper for you two to wed until you finish at the University. The Usamis are traditional, you know. But if Ayaka should become pregnant--"

"DAD!"

"Be quiet! I'm trying to tell you this as delicately as possible. The Usamis know that Ayaka is sexually naive, and Mrs. Usami has hinted that she would like you to introduce her daughter into what married life entails. Provided, of course, you both take precautions. The Usamis aren't completely conservative, you see. But if Ayaka should become pregnant before you finish University, the marriage will have to come sooner to protect her reputation, as well as your own."

"Dad! This is embarrassing!" Tatsuha was frantically trying to catch up with his father's words, hoping that somehow this was all a joke. The Japanese were a traditional people, and monks especially so, but this--.

"I know it sounds cynical. But Mrs. Usami does not want her daughter to be mortally shocked on her wedding night. I understand her concern. Ayaka is indeed a sheltered girl, and Mrs. Usami is a practical, hard-headed woman. She knows that Ayaka must discover what sex is like someday, and she would rather have her daughter initiated by you, her friend and future husband, rather than some stray boy. I will be blunt. You have a duty. You're supposed to teach Ayaka to enjoy sex. She is supposed to become so emotionally dependant on you to provide for all her romantic and physical pleasures that she won't consider dating anyone else. Mrs. Usami is a little afraid for her daughter. Ayaka is the sort who falls deeply in love, and she might find a boyfriend on her own unless something is done for her soon. The girl has had nothing to live on except romantic daydreams, Mrs. Usami told me, and her mother is worried that Ayaka might become desperate. I want you here tomorrow. The ceremony is scheduled for Sunday afternoon, at the Usami temple. Good-bye."

The connection broke. Tatsuha didn't let go of the cell phone. He was staring at it, stunned.

Eiri, who was standing in the doorway of his office, took the cigarette out of his mouth. There was another cell phone to his ear, which he shut off. "That was the most cynical crap I've ever heard Father spew."

"You were listening in?" Shuichi exclaimed.

"Hell, yes. If I expect to stay out of Father's plots, I've got to stay on top of what he's planning. Sorry, Tats."

"My God," said Tatsuha, still looking at the cell phone in his hand. "I don't believe this."

"So," said the writer. "Are you going to tell him no?"

"WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? He told me not to come home if I didn't."

The room fell silent. Eiri began smoking furiously, frowning and thinking hard. "If you and Ayaka get used to having sex with each other, it'll become harder for the both of you to say no to the actual marriage. You'll start to see her, unconsciously, as someone who belongs to you, as your future wife. Also, be skeptical if Dad keeps saying 'If she gets pregnant.' That's crap. It's WHEN she gets pregnant. Someone's planning on sticking pinholes in your rubbers or replacing her birth control pills with sugar pills. Someone REALLY wants you to get her pregnant, which would force the two of you together."

The writer took the cigarette out of his mouth, and exhaled a long blast of smoke. "They failed to marry me off to her, so they're getting ruthless with you. So," he added, "are you going to go through with it?"

"FUCK!" Tatsuha dropped the phone and put his face in his hands. "I don't know! I don't want to stop speaking with Dad forever. And I'd still like to be a monk. But without his approval, I don't think I could. I don't think another temple would take me, especially not if Dad passes the word that I have a bad character. I don't know what I'm going to do." Tatsuha uncovered his face, and stared dully at the wall. "He did say the actual marriage would be postponed until after I graduate from college. Maybe something will wreck the engagement before then."

Eiri narrowed his eyes. "That's another attempt to bribe you. Father thinks you'll agree if he hints you have a way out. Don't believe him." The writer sighed. "Call Ayaka, and start begging and pleading. Tell her she's a nice girl who deserves to have a husband who loves her, and you don't. Say you have another girlfriend or something, and insist it's serious between you two. If you can't back out, maybe she can."

Tatsuha was still staring into space. "I'll have to try, I guess. My only other option is to ruin my character so badly the Usamis won't take me." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Not sure I can do that in only a day."

The monk punched in Ayaka's number as he tried to think of some ploy. She must know about the engagement. Why else had she tried to reach him earlier? Hopefully, she would be as nauseated as he was by it.

However, he was in for a surprise.

"What do you mean you're going along with it? You've got to be kidding!" Tatsuha yelled into the phone.

"I--I don't want to alienate my parents."

"So do I! But I'm not going to wreck my life to please them, either!"

"Would it really ruin your life to become engaged to me?"

Tatsuha winced. "What I mean is, I don't love you. You know that. And you don't love me. You deserve someone who does, not this arrangement crap. Look at me. What the hell was your father thinking? There's no way I'm suitable for a nice girl like you."

"You're not so bad," she replied. "You're a dutiful son of your family's temple, and a good brother to Mika and Eiri."

"Yeah, um, thanks, but that's not the point. You do know I have about 15 girlfriends, right? Plus the occasional boyfriend. And I'm not the faithful or steady type."

"I don't believe that," she retorted.

Tatsuha nearly threw his cell phone across the room. "You want their friggin' phone numbers? I'll give 'em to you. And I'm telling the truth about my boyfriends, too."

"I don't believe that, either. How could you have girlfriends and say you like guys, too? You have people who are attracted to women, or people who are attracted to men—and don't call me naive, I know that homosexuals exist."

Tatsuha clapped the cell phone to his forehead in exasperation. "Ayaka, has anyone ever explained the word 'bisexual' to you?"

"I know what it means," she replied indignantly. "But I don't believe that bisexuals actually exist. You're either attracted to women or attracted to men, and that's that."

Tatsuha's eyes rolled. Ayaka had been sheltered much too thoroughly.

"And I know you have--," she paused, "--female friends who would try to keep you away from me. You're very popular. But I also know you don't take them seriously."

"Damn right I don't! I'm a playboy."

"So why not become engaged to me?"

"Ayaka," said Tatsuha slowly, trying to spell this out. "_You don't like me_, remember?"

"What makes you think I don't like you?"

"Look, the last time we met, you called me an interfering, little gelled-up holier-than-thou snotball. That hardly indicates strong affection, does it?"

"But I didn't mean it! I was just mad at you because you tracked me down and took me home when I was trying to see Eiri. I apologize now for what I said, because I know that you were only trying to protect me."

"Okay. I don't use gel anyway. That part sort of upset me. But Ayaka, you're not attracted to me, so there's no reason to--"

"But I am."

Tatsuha could have swallowed his cell phone. "Say that again?"

"But I am. I didn't used to be, but you were just a little boy. Now I think you're really, um, rather . . . sexy."

The cell phone slid out of Tatsuha's hand to the floor. A second later the monk had clawed it back up to his ear. "That's Eiri you're thinking of, not me! I just resemble him. You're still in love with my brother!"

"No, Tatsuha. I always thought you were better looking than Eiri, but you weren't as nice and polite as he was when we were younger. Now, you're different."

"Ayaka!" the monk shouted into the phone. "I can't become engaged to you. I'm in love with Ryuichi Sakuma!"

"Oh, Tatsuha. That's not real love. That's puppy love. You only have a crush on your favorite rock star like millions of other kids do. Besides, you've told me he only dates women. He'd never be interested in you."

The monk flushed purple at these words, and almost began to sob. "Ayaka! Listen to me! There's someone else in love with you and his name's Hiroshi Nakano!"

"He's never told me so himself," she replied sadly.

"Oh, CRAP. Ayaka, I have a letter from him that I'm supposed to deliver to you. He wants to see you."

"Then he's too late, isn't he?" she replied, still in that melancholy tone.

"Look, don't do this just to please your parents. You don't know how horrible I can be."

"I've known you all my life, which is enough to judge you fairly. I don't mind becoming engaged to you. Why don't you try it and see how it goes?"

The monk could not make himself speak. She gave him a soft goodbye, and hung up. Not even the words, "Call Mika, dammit," coming from the cell phone disturbed him. It took a moment before Tatsuha realized his brother had been listening in again. He held back the angry yell he wanted to use, and quickly called his sister. Mika, who knew Ayaka well, might be the only one left who could talk her out of it. The spluttered explanation did not take long.

"Why not go ahead and do it?" Mika suggested.

"Because I don't want to!"

"Look, four years is a long time. The sword won't drop until you graduate from college," (nice image, thought Tatsuha grimly) "--and she could easily find another boyfriend in that time. Or you could just try being your usual obnoxious, adolescent self. That would certainly make her to break it off."

"Maybe Dad will be dead."

"Eiri! Are you listening in?" Mika exclaimed.

"Damn right."

"Well, don't take your older brother's advice. His way of breaking off an engagement nearly gave Dad a heart attack."

"If you were paying attention, that was actually my younger brother and Shuichi."

"Whatever. But given four years, I think the engagement has a good chance of fizzling out."

"And if it doesn't?" Tatsuha asked in a strained voice.

"Then I'll make Tohma give you a job if Dad disowns you. I wouldn't take his threat seriously, anyway. He's been trying to get Eiri back to Kyoto for years."

For a second Tatsuha quailed. Then he thought, _A job at NG? Hey, I'd be working close to Ryuichi! That wouldn't be so bad_.

"Okay," said the monk with resignation. "Since nobody can see a way out, I might as well placate Dad."

There was silence on the phone. Shuichi, who had abandoned his video game long ago, was goggling. Then the singer stood up and slipped outside the apartment.

Someone was going to have to tell Hiro.

* * *

Continued in chapter 6.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

With a feeling of dread, Shuichi called the guitarist on his cell phone. 

"What's up, Shu?"

"Are you at home? I need to talk to you."

"I'm at NG. Practically everyone's gone today, and I thought I'd lay down some guitar tracks. Is it Yuki?"

"No. I just need to talk to you about something. Stay there and I'll meet you."

* * *

When Shuichi arrived, he realized he had forgotten to ask exactly where inside NG Hiro was. The singer went to their usual studio, but didn't find his friend. Instead, he found Ryuichi Sakuma, singing. 

Shuichi paused to listen. The song was just too beautiful for him to pass it by. Sakuma must have thought he was alone, for he had fallen into some sort of self-hypnotic state in front of a microphone. From the lights on the mixing board, Shuichi knew it was recording, but there was no producer or recording engineer present.

Ryuichi was singing a love song, passionately and slowly, almost too slowly. He was in one of his stage outfits, black lace shirt and leather pants.

_Even the machines in this room must be having erections_, thought Shuichi dazedly. _Why is he singing like this, and in these clothes, with no audience?_

_And who is this for?_

Ryuichi looked up and broke off.

Shuichi felt like some clumsy oaf who had just shattered some marvelous crystal bird. Horrified, he was about to apologize, when Sakuma came running into the booth to shut the recording off. "It's all right, Shu-chan. I was just making a present for a friend. Were you looking for me?"

(Although Shuichi was thrilled to hear Eiri say 'Shu-chan,' it made him even more delirious when Ryuichi used it.)

"Actually, I was trying to find Hiro. I have to tell him some bad news, and I'm afraid he'll be very upset."

"What news?"

"The girl he has a big crush on, Ayaka Usami, is getting engaged to someone else."

"That's a shame. Not even being a famous musician was able to help him?"

"No. It seems the girl's father wants to make a traditional arrangement for his daughter. You know the other person involved—Tatsuha Uesugi."

Shuichi was not expecting the look of shock on Sakuma's face.

"Tatsuha? But he's just a kid! He still likes to color with crayons and play dress up!"

Shuichi thought this was actually a better description of Ryuichi himself, but didn't comment. Instead, he replied, "He's not so young anymore. He's going to college next semester and his father thinks he's old enough to be engaged."

"But, but," Ryuichi stammered. "Is this some girl he's been in love with? He's never mentioned her to me before."

"He doesn't want to get engaged to her at all. His father's pushing him into it."

Before Ryuichi could reply, there came a knock on the glass. Hiro was peering through it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sakuma-san. I have to talk to Hiro. I'll tell you what develops. See you later."

Before Sakuma could reply, Shuichi was already shutting the door to the control booth behind him. Hiro was wearing a look of polite concern on his face, and was obviously thinking 'Yuki?'

"Let's talk in the break room," Shuichi said. When they arrived there, the singer blurted out, "Ayaka's getting engaged."

Only a face as schooled in Japanese manners as Hiro's could have remained calm, but Shuichi saw the expression in his friend's eyes. Not even the guitarist could hide that.

"And it's to Tatsuha."

For half a minute Hiro made no reply. Finally he shouted, "Is this a joke!"

Taken aback, Shuichi said, "No! It's their parents who are arranging it. You remember the Usamis originally wanted to marry Ayaka off to Eiri. Now they're trying again with Tatsuha."

"Wait. Ayaka. Did she agree?" Hiro asked quickly. He didn't know what he thought. Tatsuha. Ayaka. Tatsuha. What evil fate was doing this to him?

"She sounded resigned."

"Shuichi, could you leave me alone?"

"Wait a minute! You're my friend. You don't run out on me, and I don't run out on you."

Hiro was careful not to meet the other's eyes. "It's all right, Shu. I'm upset, but I can deal with it. I don't know her very well, okay?"

"You sure?" Shuichi asked with concern.

"Yeah. Just give me some time alone, let me kick a rock or something, and I'll be fine."

Shuichi exhaled with relief. "That's great. I'm heading over to Suguru's to check on that new mix of his, and I'll give you a call later to see how you're doing."

Hiro nodded, trying to feign calm. It worked until Shuichi left, then the guitarist ran like hell for his motorcycle.

He took off for Eiri Yuki's apartment, and Tatsuha.

* * *

Continued in chapter 7. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 (Non-con lemon in this chapter).

* * *

As the motorcycle roared down the street, Hiro noticed out of the corner of his eye that he was passing Eiri Yuki. The writer was stepping into a convenience store, probably buying cigarettes. Good. That meant Tatsuha would be alone. 

He skidded into a parking place and ran into the lobby. Fortunately, Shuichi had given him a spare key to Yuki's apartment in case of emergencies, so he was able to ignore the buzzer.

Tatsuha flew off the couch in surprise when he saw who was entering. "Hiro? What-Ouch! Damn, forgot about the ankle." For a second he swayed with pain, ignoring the intruder. Then his eyes shot open when Hiro grabbed the front of his T-shirt hard,balling up the material.

"Uh, Hiro? What are you doing?"

_Goddammit_, the guitarist ranted mentally, _he consented to the engagement even though he knew I was in love with Ayaka._ I ABSOLUTELY WANT TO KILL HIM. The insanity left his eyes for a moment, and he could see Tatsuha clearly. The monk's lips were trembling. This was a very different young man from the one he'd seen an hour ago. Tatsuha was badly flustered.

"Hiro? You're scaring me, man. Let go."

That look of vulnerability did something strange and evil to Hiro's psyche. He began to drag the other towards Yuki's bedroom.

_THINK_, _Nakano_. _What could cause Tatsuha to break it off? What if he were having an affair with someone else_?

It was his last rational thought before fury overcame him. His body had already decided what it was going to do.

"Hiro, let go! What the hell are you doing? If you're—."

Hiro's shoulder knocked the door open, and the two fell onto the bed. Tatsuha tried to pry his shirt out of the guitarist's hands, only to find himself flipped over onto his stomach. His shorts and underwear were yanked down his legs, and discarded. The monk looked over his shoulder in amazement as Hiro unzipped his own pants. The guitarist spat into his hands, and stroked them down his rising length. Tatsuha's eyes widened. "Hey! Wait a second---."

Two thumbs flew upwards and were at the spot, stretching it fast and painfully. A second later Hiro had shoved all the way inside.

"YEEEOOOUUCH! GODDAMN YOU HIROSHI! YOU'RE HURTING ME."

The guitarist paid no attention as he began his thrusts. Tatsuha dropped his face into the pillow, saying half to himself, half to Hiro, "What if my brother walks in right now! You're knocking against my ankle, too. BASTARD. Hurry up and get off! If you'd done this earlier when I asked you, you could have taken your time AND NOT MAIMED ME HALF SO MUCH, FUCKHEAD!"

Hiro was aware of a voice shouting, but not what it said. Everything was redness, wrath, and want. Then it all bled out into black for a second, and he was lying between Tatsuha's legs. Gradually, he realized that the monk was half-turned around, raised up on his elbows and watching. Tatsuha's expression was something Hiro never imagined he would see on the face of someone who had just been raped. Exasperation and annoyance.

"Are you done?" the monk asked after a moment.

"I—," the other gasped. Confused, he pulled out, remembering to do it carefully.

_No! This wasn't what I intended!_

The guitarist fell off the bed, landing in a ball on the floor.

"Hiro?"

Silence. Then a sound of sobbing.

"What the hell?" said Tatsuha. "You shove me down, have your way with me, and now you're crying?"

"I hurt you."

"Not seriously."

"I raped you." The guitarist was shaking. He had never realized he was capable of this. Wobbling, he stood up. Tatsuha grabbed his arms and gave him a violent jerk. "Nakano, if this really had been a rape, they'd have to pick you out of the wall. I learned martial arts during my training as a monk. I let you do it. Now stop crying."

"I can't," Hiro wept. _Like you could have yelled for help from me?_ he thought.

Tatsuha sighed, and rested Hiro's head against his shoulder. Then he put his arms around the trembling guitarist.

"Why?" Hiro whispered against the other's chest, barely able to force the word out.

"I'm a monk. Forgiving you is part of my religious duty."

Hesitantly, the guitarist said, "I have to see if I hurt you. Does your brother have any antiseptic ointment?"

"In the bathroom, second shelf in the medicine cabinet."

After Hiro returned with the ointment, still wiping away his tears, he asked, "Could you-lie down on your stomach?"

With a wan smile, Tatsuha complied.

"I have to check for tears. You might have to go to the hospital."

As he watched Hiro spread ointment on his fingers, Tatsuha muttered, "I forgot you were the one who intended to be a doctor." He winced when he was poked.

For some moments, the guitarist felt around while Tatsuha rested his face against his forearm.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"You know, this is sort of interesting, but I'm too sore to enjoy it. How about getting your fingers out of my ass and kissing me?"

Bewildered, the guitarist drew out.

"Wash!" Tatsuha commanded, pointing towards the bathroom.

Hiro did so, and when he emerged, Tatsuha was waiting for him on the bed with a sinister smile. Alarmed, the guitarist halted.

"C'mere," the monk said, crooking a finger.

Hiro sank down cautiously next to him.

"What was that other instruction I gave you?"

"To . . . ." For a second Hiro leaned forward, but found himself shying away guiltily just as he was about to touch Tatsuha's lips with his own. Instead, he bent over and kissed Tatsuha's swollen ankle.

"That was sweet, Hiro, but I was hoping for something else."

"I have to leave," Hiro gasped. "No, you don't." The monk pulled the guitarist to him. Taking Hiro's face in his hands, he slid his good foot through Hiro's legs to lock them together, and touched his forehead to the guitarist's. Hiro's eyes widened in terror.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said the guitarist.

"Shut up."

Hiro swallowed hard.

"You completely misunderstand my psychology. I can be rather mean in bed, but I like it the other way, too."

The guitarist was paralyzed.

Very low and almost gentle, Tatsuha said, his lips almost brushing the other's, "I've got you now, Hiroshi Nakano. Every guilty little beat of your heart is mine. You're my lover, from this day on." He leaned forward, and his kiss was gloating and greedy.

Even in the midst of his fear, Hiro closed his eyes. Desire. Pure desire. He felt underneath Tatsuha's T-shirt, stroking the silken skin, until the shirt was rucked up around a dark nipple.

"I think we better move out to the couch," Tatsuha breathed against the other's neck, "before my brother gets back and wonders what happened to his bed."

* * *

Continued in chapter 8. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 (Lemonish content in this chapter).

* * *

Some minutes later, Eiri returned to his apartment. He'd been out walking, trying to think of a solution to his brother's problems, but kept being distracted by his novel-in-progress. Damn Tatsuha's troubles for being so inspiring. He was wondering how to get his heroine out of the villain's arms in the chairlift at the ski resort, and down the slope to impact with the hero. 

When he opened the apartment door, he headed right for his office, deciding to have her break the hero's leg as well. There was a pair of bodies in a slow snake wrestle on the couch, but Eiri was too busy thinking about that broken leg to pay any attention. Needy hero, guilty heroine. Silly plot, but it would all depend on the writing. A semi-comic approach might bring it off. Eiri stepped into his office and picked up his coffee cup.

Wait a minute.

That couch in the corner of the living room.

Eiri took a drink from his coffee, and tried to recall the mental picture. Tatsuha's face almost hidden by the girl's long black hair. Something about this picture did not add up. Boots and a black leather jacket? Since when did any of Tatsuha's girlfriends dress so butch?

Eiri stepped back out of the office again. Snakes were indeed wrestling on his couch. For a moment he watched unnoticed, then he stepped forward, glaring. Irritably, the writer lifted aside some of the long, screening hair. "Excuse me, miss," he asked dryly, "but have we been introduced? GAH!"

At this point the famous writer, Eiri Yuki, literally reeled backwards.

HIROSHI NAKANO! Hiroshi Nakano was kissing his brother! What in the name of God?

Hiro lifted his head and replied, "Yeah. Don't you remember me?"

"Hey, bro, why don't you go back to writing your novel?"

Eiri stared at the guitarist with nausea. He pondered the disturbing notion that Tatsuha was going to be losing his virginity (well, whatever) to Nakano, of all people. Some protective instinct woke inside the writer, and he considered punching Nakano out. Then he remembered that Tatsuha had broken his glasses, and he decided to leave his little brother to his fate.

The novelist returned to his office. Then he stopped, and came back out. "No, I can't go back to my novel. My concentration has been so thoroughly trashed it's not possible. What's going on here? When did this happen? Why you and my brother?"

Hiro sat up between Tatsuha's bent knees, and shook his hair back. "If you're going to chaperone us, I think we'll leave. C'mon, Tatsuha."

"Wait, let me get my shoes."

But the guitarist did not pause. He hauled the monk upright and off the couch, and was dragging the ouching Tatsuha barefoot across the room. The two of them were gone before the monk could even snatch at his footgear. Eiri stepped out onto his balcony and looked down, watching the two enter the parking lot below.

"No!" Hiro was saying. "Don't bother with yours. Just get on mine."

The writer watched Hiro give Tatsuha his helmet, and a second later the two were gunning down the street. The guitarist's hair was flying everywhere, helmetless.

Eiri lit a cigarette. He noted that without shoes, wallet, cell phone, or motorcycle, Tatsuha would be dependant on someone else to get him home. Hopefully, his brother wouldn't squabble with Nakano before that happened. The writer didn't think he could stand to pick up a younger brother burbling idiotically over the guitarist's body or sexual technique. He really didn't want to know that sort of detail about Nakano's love life. He did, however, wonder about Hiro's relationship with Ayaka. That stupid guitarist was supposed to be in love with her. What was Hiro up to? The guitarist ought to be Tatsuha's bloody rival, not his lover.

The writer debated calling Ryuichi and asking the singer to rescue Tatsuha from Hiro's apartment. However, Sakuma, with his low level of maturity, might not be able to handle the situation.

Eiri frowned, and called Shuichi.

* * *

At two o'clock in the morning, the phone rang in the writer's apartment. Yuki looked up from his laptop keys and made an annoyed hiss deep in his throat. 

"Hey, Eiri, how'd you like to pick me up?"

"Hell, no. Go ask your kidnapper to bring you back."

"He's asleep. And he has to travel out of town for that gig early tomorrow morning."

"Then just spend the night there, dammit."

"He's going to be getting up at six. Look, it's not practical for him to drive me home. Is Shuichi awake? Why don't you lend him your car keys and have him come and get me?"

"Absolutely NO WAY. I'll get you this time, but next time you either remember to take your cycle or make that slob Nakano bring you home."

When Eiri pulled the car up to the curb in front of Hiro's apartment, he saw his obnoxious brother standing there in his shorts, shirtless. Tatsuha was fanning himself with his T-shirt, grinning.

When he stepped inside the car, Tatsuha leaned back with half-closed eyes against the seat, and stroked a hand slowly down his naked chest. Then he gave a very long sigh. A VERY long and theatrical sigh.

Eiri was already wishing for earplugs. "If you talk about Nakano," the writer barked, "I'm making you walk home. By the way, why is he screwing you when he's in love with Ayaka and knows you're about to become engaged to her?"

"Correction. I just screwed _him_. And why did you have to bring her up and spoil the mood?" Tatsuha groaned. "I can't stand the thought of going back to Kyoto today. He doesn't know about the engagement, remember."

"Yes he does know. Shuichi told him right after you found out."

Tatsuha's eyes shot open. "He DOES know!"

"So you want to tell me why was he screwing you or whatever?"

Tatsuha stared hard at his brother's face. "I couldn't answer that."

"Remember what you said earlier about wrecking your reputation?"

"Huh?"

"You said one way you could get out of this engagement was to wreck your reputation, and let the Usamis know. Is that Nakano's plan?"

Tatsuha was looking out the car window, his elbow on the ledge, his chin resting on his fist. "I don't see how it would help him, if he's my accomplice," the monk replied after a long moment. "The Usamis would be equally disgusted with Hiro, and wouldn't let him marry her, either."

"I guess you're right," Eiri said. "What is that guy's plan, anyway? Nakano's not stupid."

Tatsuha was unusually silent for the rest of the drive home.

* * *

Hiro stumbled around his apartment early that morning, trying to dress, his thoughts out of control. Underwear, jeans, where were they? _What the hell have I done? I've betrayed Ayaka._

Getting a shirt on, no, not that one, which Tatsuha had removed last night, a button slipped open here, a tug there. All the while watching Hiro's reaction.

A clean shirt, which hadn't been used by the monk to wipe up bodily fluids. _I can't believe I let him do that. This was my favorite shirt, too._

An evil voice interrupted, _Who are you kidding, Nakano? Do you and Ayaka even have a relationship that can be "betrayed?" Have you even gone on a real date with her?_

_Well, one_, Hiro's conscience replied feebly.

Lifting the stained cotton shirt, which was wrinkled from Tatsuha's fingers, the hard grip working Hiro to climax. But he also used his tongue to clean me off, starting between my legs, gentle.

The evil voice retorted, _Does she have to know? Tatsuha's not the faithful sort. You'll break up with him sometime, and then you can move on to Ayaka. She doesn't have to know about him._

The monk pressing him down on his face and forcing his legs apart. Fear and panic for a moment, but knowing he must submit as payment for the rape, then Tatsuha whispering into the hair against his neck, it'll be all right. Hands stroking him, massaging his shoulders to relax him, while Tatsuha slowly penetrated. Relief that the pain was minor, relief at the expiation of his crime, then amazed pleasure. He loved the absolute submission of it, the impossible emotional closeness of being pierced like this, bonded together. Hiro never dreamed he'd enjoy it, until Tatsuha had done it.

Something inside Hiro fell apart. _But I don't want to break up with Tatsuha._

_I have to get dressed for the gig, dammit, I'm just standing here like an idiot holding this shirt._

His body driven hard into the futon by the thrusts, Tatsuha's hand stropping him to another messy climax. Wet everywhere, semen inside him leaking out, sweat soaking the futon. Tatsuha's malicious laugh. His hair being painfully grabbed, and his head forced up and around to meet the monk's glittering eyes, saying, I've just proved you want me. Then a surprisingly sweet kiss placed on his cheek, on his mouth, and the hand letting go of his hair. Hiro flopping back down on the pillow, groggy, sated, angry for a moment about the pain in his scalp. Then the soothing tongue starting to clean him up. And Hiro, sighing, spreading his legs, letting it wander all over and lick him to another arousal.

It was sick. It was nasty. _I want to do it again._

Would sex be as good with Ayaka? _I don't know_. His conscience poked sharply at him. _Tatsuha loves Ryuichi far more than he loves you. You're both being fools, avoiding the ones you really love._

_Oh, fuck_.

* * *

Continued in chapter 9. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

"I am glad you decided to do your duty," Uesugi-san said to his son. They were in a back room of the Usami temple, and the priest was in his robes, helping Tatsuha don a silken kimono covered with cranes. There had been no time to assemble a proper betrothal outfit, so the old priest had loaned his son one of his own kimonos. There were so many ties and turns to the material that the boy couldn't manage it himself. Tatsuha's hands were shaking badly. 

"Let me," the old priest said as he finished tying the obi. "You have a drink to settle your nerves." He handed a small porcelain cup over to his son.

"Is it sake?" Tatsuha asked hopefully.

"No! Just some water. Drink it up."

"This tastes terrible. The Usamis must have something wrong with their well."

"That's because I dissolved Valium in it."

"Dad!" Tatsuha squalled.

"Be quiet. I said it would settle your nerves, and you were willing to drink sake."

"This ceremony isn't going to be valid with one of the parties under the influence," the boy growled, glaring into his empty cup.

"It won't matter. This is only a betrothal, anyway. I refuse to have you quaking like a child in front of your intended and her family." He rested his hands on his son's shoulders. "You'll have to remember to only take a sip from Ayaka's sake cup later, since you don't want to mix alcohol with the Valium."

Tatsuha felt the pressure on his shoulders almost comfortingly. He hadn't been able to eat all day, so it was only a matter of minutes before he began to feel the effects of the Valium. Soon he was feeling light-headed, almost dizzy. Some of that was lack of food, he knew.

It wasn't long before his father began to steer him slowly into the main hall of the temple. The hands on his shoulders were necessary. Tatsuha wasn't sure he could stay balanced on his geta. He was still frightened when he dropped down on his knees in front of the altar. The elder Uesugi knelt opposite his son, watching the boy closely and sternly. Tatsuha looked down. He couldn't believe his own father had drugged him without his consent. Despite the Valium, his heart was beating wildly.

A girl knelt next to him. Ayaka. She was in a white satin kimono, her face nervous. Usami-san sat next to Tatsuha's father to assist in the ceremony. Mrs. Usami, wearing what Tatsuha swore was a thoroughly smug look, was kneeling just behind her daughter. Tatsuha felt faint, and thought he might pass out.

He was beginning to miss things. He was not aware of the startled looks around him until he felt a hand touch his arm. He glanced back and was surprised to see his brother Eiri standing there in street clothes. Tohma and Mika, both in formal dress, were kneeling behind the wedding couple.

"Eiri?" blurted the Uesugi priest in surprise.

"We've come to attend the ceremony, Father," Mika replied. "Did you forget to invite the rest of the family?"

The old priest exchanged looks with Usami-san, and neither of the old men looked happy.

"This is just a betrothal," Mrs. Usami said to Mika with a too-friendly smile. "You didn't need to trouble yourself about it. Why don't you all take some refreshments with me, first? I insist. You've traveled a long way, and the ceremony can wait a few minutes."

She took hold of Mika's hand. Mika glanced aside at Tohma, who shrugged and rose with his wife. Eiri scowled suspiciously, but followed them.

Tatsuha was about to rise, when his father grabbed his arm and forced him back down. "Leave them alone and let them talk. It's been a long time since they've met Mrs. Usami. Sit down."

Tatsuha could hear Ayaka saying something to her father. The girl sounded distressed, but he was too light-headed to catch what she said.

"No, Ayaka, it's better this way. Quickly, now."

Sanskrit words began to enter Tatsuha's foggy brain, and the boy looked up at the bowed head and crossed arms of his father, who was intoning them. What was this? Were they doing the ceremony without Mika and Eiri?

"Wait a minute!" a voice called in bad Japanese. "Shuichi, get Eiri fast."

Tatsuha turned his head and saw K, to his numbed surprise. What was Bad Luck's American manager doing here? Then he saw some pink hair in the doorway, and realized Shuichi must be hiding around the corner.

Refusing to be interrupted, the old Uesugi priest continued. Ayaka was saying something again. She was crying. Then Tatsuha felt someone take his chin and turn his head back towards the altar. It was his father holding him. "Tatsuha!" the old man exclaimed quickly in Sanskrit, "Do you take Ayaka as your wife?"

"Tatsuha! Don't reply to that!" someone cried warningly.

It was Eiri's voice. Eiri, who had been trained as a monk, understood the Sanskrit words.

The old man took the boy's face in his hands, squeezing hard. "Quickly! Say you take her as your wife!" he demanded again in Sanskrit.

In confusion, Tatsuha stayed silent. What was going on? "Do it or I disown you!"

Someone jerked Tatsuha backwards, out of his father's hands, and covered his mouth. "Don't say it or you're married," Eiri shouted angrily. "Dammit, Father! I knew you'd try to pull this. Mika! Tohma! Get in here."

"What's going on?" K asked.

"Tatsuha! They've tricked you!" Eiri said urgently.

Tatsuha could feel his brother's knees digging into his back. He felt a far-off panic, but it didn't really bother him. He watched his father step around the altar to confront Eiri. The two men were glaring at each other, Tatsuha staring up at them. Then Ayaka gasped, looking back towards the doorway.

Hiroshi Nakano stood there. The guitarist was staring wildly at the two young people on their knees. Nakano did not know who he was really here for, but he knew he had to stop the ceremony. But what was he going to do if both Ayaka and Tatsuha went along with it? Behind him, Mika and Tohma entered the room, followed by an angry-looking Mrs.  
Usami.

"Nakano!" Eiri shouted. "This is a marriage ceremony, not a betrothal!"

"Uesugi-san," said Tohma smoothly. "You can't marry this boy off without his consent."

"Which I will have in a moment if you'd just be silent! Tatsuha! Answer me." The old man yanked Eiri's hand away, and dragged Tatsuha back by the arm. Usami-san had seized Eiri's arms from behind to restrain him. The writer struggled, but the other priest had been a martial arts student in his younger days and had Eiri in an unbreakable hold. "Don't say anything, Tatsuha!" the writer shouted.

Then K's voice could be heard speaking into a tiny microphone. "Boss! It's a marriage, not a betrothal! Time for plan B."

Several people gave the big American surprised looks, including Eiri and Hiro. Then K lunged. He chopped Uesugi's wrists, breaking his hold on his son, and swung the bewildered and drugged Tatsuha over his shoulder. Then the American ran for the exit, passing a startled Shuichi. Mrs. Usami tried to stop him by tripping him, but K dodged her leg and ungraciously knocked her aside.

"After him," Uesugi-san shouted. "Get the boy back!"

Bravely, Tohma tried to block the doorway. Shuichi was right behind him. Mrs. Usami, angry over K's behavior, kicked Tohma in the crotch and down he went. Shuichi 'eeped' at the sight of the charging woman and leapt aside without challenging her. The two old priests ran after her. Eiri grabbed Usami by the robe to slow him down, but only got a flip that slung him right into the groaning Tohma. Mika paused to succor her brother and her husband.

Nakano hesitated. Usami might become his father-in-law one day. So the guitarist let the two old men pass. Shuichi didn't try to stop them, either. That display of martial arts had scared both musicians.

"Well, that was the most ineffectual combat I've ever been involved in," Tohma declared when he recovered his breath. "We went down like bowling pins. I think I'm all right, Mikarin. We can still have children. Would you please check to see if K was able to escape?"

"The problem was, none of us could bring ourselves to actually hurt the old bastards," Eiri snapped. "We could have stopped them if we'd been more ruthless. At least K was able to act. Who invited him, anyway?"

"You mean you didn't invite him?" Tohma said in surprise.

"No. And it wasn't you? Hiro? Shuichi?"

"Not me," the guitarist replied.

"I didn't know he was coming either," Shuichi added.

At that moment Mika returned. "K and Tats got away, but Dad and the Usamis are pursuing in their cars."

"I think K will lose them," Shuichi said.

Meanwhile, Hiro and Ayaka were staring silently at one another.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 10. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

When K hit the parking lot of the Usami temple, Tatsuha finally found the mastermind behind his rescue. The young monk was flung headlong into the back of a car, right into the waiting arms of Ryuichi Sakuma, who glomped him firmly into place. 

"Peel out, K!" the singer ordered happily.

"Roger," K replied, spinning the car in a circle and shooting off down towards the highway.

Normally, Tatsuha would have been thrilled to be in a high-speed chase with Ryuichi Sakuma wrapped around him, but he remembered his father's threat, and burst into tears.

"It's all right, Tatsuha-kun," Ryuichi soothed, stroking the boy's hair back from his face. "We're rescuing you."

"You don't understand," the monk wept. "He said he'd disown me if I didn't go along with the ceremony."

"He can't blame you if you were kidnapped, which you were," the singer insisted. He kissed Tatsuha's forehead to comfort him. "Is something else wrong? You look strange."

"I'm woozy. They drugged me with Valium."

"That's terrible! How could a father do that to his own son?" The singer glared through the back window at their pursuers.

"Wow," said Tatsuha, looking at his father blazing behind them. "Right now I'm really glad I'm doped up."

"We'll lose them," the American replied. "I siphoned most of the gas out of their cars earlier, as a precaution. They'll only last a few kilometers."

"It's all right, Tat-chan." The singer lowered Tatsuha so the boy's head was resting in his lap. "Just doze off if you're sleepy."

Tatsuha thought of all the times he'd yearned to do this and blushed.

* * *

Back inside the temple, Hiro knelt beside Ayaka, putting an arm around her satin-covered shoulders. Her white makeup was running. 

"Are you all right? Hiro asked.

"No! I—." And she started crying.

Eiri was watching them intently. "Ayaka," the writer said. "Would you marry Hiro if you had the chance?"

Two startled pairs of eyes looked up. Then they looked at each other.

"Eiri, what are you doing?" Mika asked.

"It would be a way out of your dilemma," the writer continued, "and a chance to marry a man you actually do love." Eiri looked meaningfully across at Hiro.

At any other time, Hiro would have been too shy to speak. But with Ayaka so utterly broken down, the words came flowing right out. "Ayaka Usami, I love you and ask you to marry me."

Ayaka looked at Hiro as if he were demented. "You—you love me?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Hiro's courage failed, and he couldn't say anything more. Helpfully, Eiri kicked the guitarist in the leg.

"Yes!" Hiro blurted.

Shuichi's eyes were starting out of his head. Tohma, however, simply nodded. NG's president saw an advantage to having one of Bad Luck's members publically outed as a heterosexual.

"Uh, Hiro," Shuichi began to say, "are you sure you want to do—." But another kick from the writer silenced him.

Ayaka looked around, confused at the sea of male faces. Then her eyes met Mika's.

"You can always divorce him if it doesn't work out," said Mrs. Seguchi. "And make a mint off of him in divorce court if he doesn't behave. He's a rich rock star, unlike Tatsuha."

"Mikarin," said her husband, his face in his hands.

"Seriously, though," Mika continued, flashing Tohma a smile, "Tatsuha's a high school kid with no income except an allowance. Hiro's a legal adult making plenty of money. Yes, I know my brother is glamorous and good-looking, but so is Hiro."

"What sort of advice are you giving this poor girl?" Tohma cried to his wife.

"The practical stuff. After all, she ought to know already," (Mika looked slyly at Ayaka) "whether she loves Hiro or not. You've known Tatsuha far too long, and that can be pretty boring. Why not marry the guy who will be an adventure?"

Everyone looked at Ayaka, who turned towards Hiro. The guitarist held his breath. It must have been the expression on his face, because Ayaka suddenly smiled.

"All right, Hiroshi Nakano, I will be your wife. But how could we get married?"

"I'll do it," Eiri interrupted. "I'm a Buddhist priest, and you're in a temple. And we have the required witnesses."

Both Hiro and Ayaka gasped, but Eiri had already begun to intone the Sanskrit. Hurriedly, Shuichi and Tohma came up to kneel behind the couple, and Mika knelt beside Ayaka, taking the girl's hand to give her courage.

Before the Usamis and Uesugi-san returned, the ceremony was complete.

* * *

About an hour after the pursuers' cars gave out, Ryuichi ordered K to make a detour. The car entered a forest and began to travel down an unmarked road. "We're going to stop at a traditional resort I know." The singer glanced down at the contents of his lap. Tatsuha was asleep. "I think we all need dinner and a place to rest. I'll need help getting him inside when we arrive, K." 

When Tatsuha woke, he was lying on a futon in a strange room, covered by a blanket. Somewhere near his feet Ryuichi and K were dining off a low table, the American using the cheat hole for his long legs, and a kimono-clad waitress was bringing them another course.

"About time you woke up," K commented. "They must have dosed you pretty good. Surely your Dad didn't intend you to sleep through the ceremony?"

"Shhh, don't remind him," Ryuichi chided.

"How long have I been asleep?" Tatsuha rubbed his eyes. "Where is this?"

"Only about an hour," the singer replied. "And this is a traditional resort. I've just ordered dinner for you. There are hot springs down that hall you can soak in, meanwhile."

"Does anyone know what's happened with the others?" Tatsuha couldn't stop thinking about the wild goings-on at the Usami temple.

"I was about to inquire," K said, wiping his face with a hot napkin, "but this Kobe beef stopped me. I'll make some calls and find out."

"They left robes and towels over there, Tatsuha-kun," Ryuichi said. "Our dinner took about a half an hour to arrive, so yours will probably take at least that long. You've got enough time for the springs."

"Thanks." The monk tried to get his kimono off, but he wasn't able to undo more than a couple of his father's fiendishly tied knots. Some of the knots were in places he couldn't even reach. He struggled uselessly with the outfit for several minutes. Sakuma, seeing his problem, left the room for a moment. When he returned, he was holding up a pair of scissors. The singer smiled a wicked little smile, and clacked the blades together meaningfully.

Tatsuha nearly fainted.

When the scissors had removed most of the material, the monk grabbed the last remaining bits of cloth to cover his modesty and fled the room, racing for the hot springs. He had almost disgraced himself right in front of his idol. Ryuichi Sakuma cutting his clothes off! Tatsuha couldn't have imagined anything more erotic. Some minutes later, while Tatsuha was soaking in the pool, Ryuichi entered the room. Instantly, the teenager dropped until the water covered him to his chin. The singer was listening with great concentration to a cell phone. A second cell phone was in his hand, and he held this out, saying, "You've got a call, Tatsuha-kun." The singer stepped aside for privacy and continued with his own conversation.

Warily, Tatsuha took the phone, hoping there was no ugly surprise on the other end.

"Tatsuha?"

It was Shuichi.

The monk was relieved. He could deal with Shuichi.

"Are you sitting down?"

Tatsuha looked around. No way was he going to stand up naked in front of Ryuichi just to find a chair, and if his father had disowned him, he thought he could handle it without fainting.

"Go ahead," the monk said after a deep breath.

"Ayaka's married."

This really did cause the blood to leave Tatsuha's face. "Is it---to me?" he asked weakly. He'd never thought he'd have to ask this sort of question, but then he hadn't been too coherent back at the temple.

"No, to Hiro."

The cell phone dropped with a noisy clatter to the stone floor. Ryuichi looked up at the noise. A moment later Tatsuha had snatched up the phone again. "What happened?"

"Uh, Hiro asked Ayaka to marry him right after you left with K and though we were all surprised she said yes and Eiri married them right there, which he could since he's a priest and then they were off to have the marriage legally registered and then the Usamis and your Dad came back after hitching rides and threw a fit at us for interfering with you and Ayaka and then the temple servants told them that Hiro had married Ayaka and they threw another fit and took off for the registrar's but it was too late and all the reporters had found out about the marriage because Tohma called them with the news and they were mobbing the registry building and then Tohma had to call a security service to get Hiro and Ayaka away in an armored limo—."

Shuichi's voice was growing fainter. Tatsuha shook his head to clear it. It was way too hot in the steaming water. Maybe it was the Valium that was making Tatsuha feel like he couldn't breathe. His stomach was queasy.

"Thanks, Shu," he mumbled into the phone. "I'll call you guys later."

After he shut the phone off, he was so stunned that he only gradually became aware of Ryuichi's voice speaking into the other cell phone. It took some moments before the monk realized that his idol, the divine Ryuichi Sakuma, genki sweetness itself, was threatening someone. And that someone was his own father.

"There's no point in shouting, Uesugi-san. Your son wasn't kidnapped and you can talk to him if you don't believe it. I would advise you to calm down and accept Ayaka-san's marriage. How would you like all of Kyoto to know that you drugged your son and tried to force him into a marriage against his will? So much for your mask of saintliness. Do you think your temple or your services will be wanted anymore when people find out what a scoundrel and a fake you are? I could easily arrange it."

Ryuichi listened for a moment.

"Priests shouldn't use that sort of language over the telephone. Maybe you could force your children and Tohma to cover it up, but you have no hold over me, and I've got you on disk. K was wearing a microphone that was hooked up to a high quality digital recorder, and it copied what you were saying. Would you like the Kyoto news agencies to hear it? I advise you, as I said before, to make friends with your son again, and accept Ayaka's marriage."

The singer broke the connection.

Tatsuha grabbed a towel that some bather had left behind, and climbed out of the water, wrapping it around his waist. He stumbled over to a window and opened it. The cooler air he sucked in felt good, but his skin was still unbearably hot. He ran out of the room.

"Tatsuha!" the singer shouted.

A moment later the monk found a door leading outside, and almost fell through it. A cold wind was blowing against his damp skin, and it revived him a little. He was standing on a stone terrace, looking out at pine trees.

"Tatsuha?" Ryuichi called from behind him. "What are you doing? You'll make yourself sick!" With another towel, the singer quickly began to dry Tatsuha off.

"I'm all right," the monk managed to say, "it's just the Valium. I shouldn't have gone into the water."

"I thought it had worn off," Ryuichi replied mournfully, "or I wouldn't have let you. Come back inside and lie down."

When they returned to their room, the monk could not hold back his tears any longer. "My Dad. What did he say? Has he disowned me?"

Ryuichi hugged him, towel and all. "Don't cry like that. It would be pointless for him to try to disown you now. He's upset, but I think he'll get over it."

"But what if he does? What will I do?"

"Then you can come live with me. I was planning to ask you, anyway. I mean, since you're going to Tokyo for college and I have all this extra room in my apartment, I thought you could stay with me and help watch over the place while I was out touring and stuff, and —."

"Tatsuha," he said finally. "Hiro told me you're in love with me."

The monk gulped hard. This was horrible beyond belief. He did notice, however, that Ryuichi was still hugging him.

"I love you, too."

Tatsuha stopped crying as fast as a small child offered a piece of candy. "Huh? You do?"

"Yes. But I didn't know you loved me. And I thought you only liked girls, and you were so young, anyway. Then Shuichi reminded me that you were going to college, and if your father thought you were old enough for marriage, then maybe I was free to tell you what I felt. But then there came your engagement and I wasn't sure—Tatsuha-kun, do you like that girl? Do you want to marry her?"

The singer looked afraid.

"Hell, no! Do you mean to tell me you thought you were living with unrequited love all this time!"

Ryuichi nodded pathetically.

"My poor, sweet, Ryuichi," said Tatsuha. He took his lover's face in his hands, and kissed him hard.

* * *

Continued in chapter 11. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

Tatsuha knocked on Hiro's door the next day. 

_God, I can't face him_, the guitarist thought as he looked through the peephole. But Tatsuha deserved better than a closed door, so Hiro opened it. The guitarist needed to talk to him. To say goodbye.

Oddly, the monk was holding a guitar case. He was dressed in a red silk shirt and formal trousers, and wearing what looked like expensive leather shoes.

"I've got some wedding presents for you two," the monk announced, smiling. "Is Ayaka here?"

_What_?! "Um, she's gone back to Kyoto to pack up. You know about us?"

"Yeah, everyone told me you married Ayaka. Congratulations. I'm damned glad it's not me. Sorry you have to face the Usamis, though. I'll bet they're pissed."

"They were, but it's too late. Fortunately, they haven't started yelling for a divorce yet." He eyed the monk. "You're dressed up today."

Tatsuha looked embarrassed. "Ryuichi bought these clothes for me since I uh, ended up without anything to wear yesterday. All I had was that kimono."

"What's with that guitar?" Hiro asked. He knew he was being evasive, and could tell Tatsuha was, too. The monk was smiling, but the guitarist was aware he was seeing a professional public face.

"I'll tell you later. Let me start with this one first." The monk set the guitar case down, and removed an envelope from his pocket. "This is from Noriko and Tetsuya."

Hiro took it. "Ayaka really ought to be here for this. I should wait for her before I open it."

"The flap's not sealed, so you can just close it up again for her." Tatsuha nodded encouragingly towards the envelope. "It's a gift certificate. Noriko said something about how you two needed to set up a proper household. I guess she's seen your apartment." The monk's smile was wider, genuine this time.

"This is----," Hiro was startled by the high amount, "quite a lot of money," he managed to finish.

Tatsuha shrugged. "She's rich. And she used to be your bandmate, so don't be too surprised. Next are these." He removed a pair of airline tickets from his breast pocket. "You said something once about wanting to see Australia, so Eiri and I bought you tickets for your honeymoon. I understand that Shuichi and Suguru are going to be giving you two a stay in a hotel or something like that, but they want to formally present that to you both later, at NG."

"That's very generous of you," Hiro managed to reply. Eiri and Tatsuha? Considering that the former detested him, and the latter should be furious with him, and that both were Ayaka's exes, this was really generous.

"And finally, this is from Ryuichi." The monk indicated the guitar case he'd brought in. "Open it."

Carefully, Hiro took it, and set the case down on his breakfast table. Both men knelt down next to each other. As the guitarist undid the clasps, Tatsuha explained, "Ryuichi bought it many years ago at an auction. He's had it for years as a souvenir, but he thought you'd appreciate it more than he would, because it's your instrument."

Hiro opened the case, and saw an older model electric guitar. It looked well-used, but still in good shape.

"It belonged to Jimi Hendrix," Tatsuha said. "And according to Ryuichi, it was the one he used to play those Curtis Mayfield stylings on the song, 'Have You Ever Been To Electric Ladyland.' I wouldn't know, not being a musician. That was before my time, anyway. Ryuichi thought you'd like it."

Hiro was too stunned to reply. He could only stare, and blink down at the instrument before him. This was a princely gift. God knows how many tens of thousands of dollars it must have cost Ryuichi at that auction.

The monk was careful not to say that Ryuichi had intended it as his personal thank-you to Hiro, for keeping Tatsuha from marrying Ayaka.

"I'll have to thank him in person," Hiro said finally. "I'm almost too scared to try to play it." He shut the case again, and looked at Tatsuha.

The monk suddenly found something very interesting to look at on the wall. His smile vanished.

"Tatsuha," Hiro asked. "Are you upset?"

"I knew you intended to marry her all along. No, I'm not upset about that."

Hiro noticed the evasion. "But are you upset with me?"

Tatsuha was still not meeting his eyes. "Uh, Hiro, I have something to tell you. Things have changed between Ryuichi and me. We're dating now."

Hiro stopped breathing. He was surprised at how much those words hurt. Wasn't he the one supposed to be disappointing Tatsuha? "How did that happen?"

Tatsuha looked at him for a moment. The monk's ears had noticed the sharpness of the other's tone. "Ryuichi was thinking of waiting until I turned 18 before asking me out, but events forced his hand. I'll be visiting him from Kyoto for a while, and Ryu's asked me to move in with him when I start at Tokyo University. If I can think of a way to disguise the whole business from my father, I will."

Finally, Hiro understood his own feelings. He loved Ayaka. He loved her absolutely, and was delirious to be her husband. But he still wanted Tatsuha. Even being married hadn't changed that. Without thinking, Hiro turned the other's chin and kissed him.

Finally, their mouths parted. "We're not supposed to do this," the guitarist said, gathering his common sense back together.

"I can love more than one person at a time," the monk said defiantly.

"So can I," Hiro replied. "But I can be loyal only to one."

Tatsuha's eyes flared, but he said nothing.

"This has to be goodbye, Tatsuha."

"All right," said the monk with effort. "But I'd like to stay friends with both you and Ayaka."

"No reason you shouldn't," Hiro replied.

"Yeah, okay, I ought to be going then." The monk's voice was rough. He stood, and Hiro let go of him.

"Thanks again for the gifts. The tickets were very thoughtful."

Tatsuha shrugged, his charming smile in place again. "You're welcome. And goodbye then." For a moment he looked Hiro in the eyes, and there was something evil in his expression. Suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed the guitarist's cheek, and Hiro startled at the innocent peck.

"See you later, honey," said the monk in a saucy tone, "and pass that along to Ayaka for me." With that, Tatsuha left.

Hiro went over to the window and looked down towards the parking lot. Tatsuha, without missing a beat, waved upwards. His cocky expression showed he knew Hiro would be watching.

The guitarist shivered.

* * *

The End 


End file.
